With Me
by SilverChocolate
Summary: Arnold and Helga. Together in Paris, hoping to grow more than 'just friends'. Something or shall I say someone tears them apart...they end up hurting each other, and wishing that they were dead...can they overcome this obstacle? Find out..
1. Oui, Oui

Title:With Me 

**Summary:** Arnold and Helga are just beginning a relationship, but hit some rocks. They both are on a trip in Paris hoping to find some common ground with each other, and maybe go a step further. All plans crash when Arnold sees Cecile again. Jealousy, rage, and mixed emotions. Helga decides to get back at Arnold and does something she never intended to do…

**Rating:** PG-13 for language, adult situations, and sexual tendencies. 

**A/N:** beware! There is some french in here. And I am _so sorry_ if the french is wrong. I went to a translator to get these complete sentences…and, well…I don't think it was all that great. So I'd love to get comments on the french. I just thought I'd throw this idea out there. Hope you'll R/R…and yeah. Hopefully I can get some longer chapters with more details. 

Chapter One: Oui, Oui  

****

"You know what, Arnold? I really don't know why you're getting so worked up over one stupid card deck!" snarled Helga. 

"It was _not_ some stupid card deck! It was _my_ card deck! And _you_ lost them!" he snapped back. 

"I did _not_ lose them! I just…ugh! Does it _really _matter, Football head? Does it? I'll buy you a new deck of cards when we land! Okay?" 

"Fine." He crossed his arms across his chest. 

"Fine!" Helga looked away. 

"Stupid little…" he muttered under his breath. 

"What did you just say?" she snapped. 

"Nothing." 

"Ugh…" 

Helga and Arnold were going on a trip to Paris for the summer with their French teacher, Mr. Van Dam. They wanted to go because they were friends. Plus, they had won a contest for an all expense paid trip to Paris for the summer. They had been getting so friendly with each other, working their way up to being a couple. But lately, it seems like they've done nothing but gotten on each other's nerves. 

I suppose nothing lasts forever. 

Sure they cared for each other…but they had their differences. Sometimes they couldn't seem to agree. The two of them did nearly everything together ever since Gerald moved away and Phoebe moved back to Kentuky. Helga and Arnold. Just the way things were. 

"Please, you two, be quiet!" order Mr. Van Dam. "This is an airplane, not a school playground. If you two don't stop your arguing I will put you both on the plane back to Brooklyn!" 

"Sorry," the two of them said in unison. 

This was going to be one long plane ride to Paris. 

"Are you excited?" wondered Helga. 

"Yeah. I can't wait to see Cécile. It's been such a long time," he sighed. "I'm still finding it hard to believe that I'm actually going to Paris to see her." 

"Yeah. She's one hell of a girl," mumbled Helga. 

"And you?" 

"I'm hoping to get a full cultural experience," she chuckled. 

"Seriously!" 

"Okay…seriously. This is going to sound so stupid," she began, "but I'm hoping to find some romance in Paris. You know? Like in the movies…" blood rushed to her cheeks. 

Arnold gave her a blank stare. "And you're serious about this?" 

Helga glanced at him quickly. "Yes. I am." _I'm actually hoping to get to kiss you on this vacation, if you want to know the truth. I'm hoping to get our friendship to the next level._

He nodded slowly, as if he understood. In a way, he did understand. He really did like Helga a lot. And he really did want to be with her the whole time and slowly be more than just a friend, but he still couldn't take his mind off Cécile. How she would be…and if he would actually be able to get involved with her. 

That would be amazing. A once in a life time sort of thing. Not everyone goes to France and gets a girlfriend. 

A couple of hours later, Arnold was watching the in-flight movie, nearly falling asleep, and crunching on a Kit-Kat bar. Helga didn't feel like watching a movie. Instead she read her book, _P is for Passion_. In the most exciting part, Jean-Claude had been taken away from Bridgette the day after they first embraced in each other. She was crying, and almost close to commiting suicide because she knew that Jean-Claude wouldn't be able to come out alive. It was a real page-turner. Helga was eagerly biting her nails, turning the pages…will love truly conquer all? 

Arnold glanced over at her to see her face buried within the pages of the book. Her eyes so wide and magnifying…He couldn't take his eyes off her. It never occurred to him before now that Helga had really changed since the 4th grade. Her hair was always down, or in a pony-tail…never again in pigtails. Her complexion reminded him of milk…so soft and creamy. If he could only touch her cheek, pull her into his arms and kiss her. 

But he couldn't. He put himself on a look, but no touch policy. It was so hard for him to abide by his own rules. He often found himself sniffing her hair when she was not paying attention to him. 

Bridgette, disguised as a soldier, walked into the halls of the prison. Dark, mucky corridors which sent chills down her spine. Then, her heart skipped a beat to see her beloved Jean-Claude sitting in a chamber, shivering…with barely any clothes on. She clutched on to the bars and from her lips, she uttered words only they could understand. 'Jean-Claude,' she mumbled, 'it's me… Bridgette…' Jean-Claude looked up from the floor. He slowly got up and limped to the dark-faced soldier standing on the other side of the bars. His fingers extended to her cheeks. He felt the warmth, the silkiness of her cheeks. 'Bridgette,' he said happily, 'it is you…' 

Just then, Arnold took the book from her hands. "_P is for Passion_?" he snorted. 

"Hey!" snapped Helga. "that's MY book!" 

"Let's just see," he flipped the pages of the book, " 'and with all her might, she slapped him across the face…how could he? It was like she'd been run over by a truck…her own Jean-Claude, lying to her?'" 

Helga's jaw dropped. "You _idiot!_" Helga cursed and took the back from him. "you ruined it for me! Completely!" She began to smack him with her thick 250-paged book. 

"Hey, ouch!" he whined, "stop!" 

The people around them stared. 

"vous êtes un idiot, vous savez cela?" mumbled Helga. (1) 

Arnold groaned. "Je ne suis pas un idiot," he replied. 

"Oui vous êtes," she snapped back. 

"Cessez de discuter!" ordered Mr. Van Dam. "S'il vous plait…" 

"Désolé," the two of them said together. 

Mr. Van Dam shook his head and began talking to himself in French. The only words Helga and Arnold caught were "stupid kids," and "why me?" the rest were French cuss words they didn't know. 

After the chicken dinner, Helga and Arnold gradually fell asleep. 

"Attention all passengers, we will be landing shortly, so please fasten your seat belts until the sign is off…. Attention tous les passagers, nous débarquerons sous peu, satisfaisons ainsi attachons vos ceintures de sécurité jusqu'à ce que le signe soit éteint." 

Helga yawned and stretched out her arms, hitting Arnold on top of his head "accidentally". Arnold groaned. "What time is it?" he wondered. 

"In France or what?" Helga replied. 

"I don't care…" 

"In France, it's noon." 

"When will we be landing?" 

"Shortly." She took out a compact mirror from her backpack and looked at herself. Bleh. She took out some lipstick and blush and applied it on her face. Much better…now she had a rosier complexion. It wasn't her fault that the plane was so cold and the blankets were so thin that she lost the blood in her cheeks. 

Helga stared out the window and saw land. Brown and green patches which slowly turned into little forming cities, and then to buildings and houses. After a 12 hour trip, they were finally in Paris. 

"Bonjour! Et accueillez en France, nous vous espèrent apprécient votre sejour. Restez svp assis jusqu'à ce que nous fassions un point. Merci." Pause. "Hello! And welcome to France, we hope you enjoy your stay. Please stay seated until we make a full stop. Thank you." 

Helga unbuckled her seat belt and sighed. 

***

After Arnold, Helga, and Mr. Van Dam got all their luggage, they got on a cab to their hotel. It was funny to them how they were driving on the left side of the road. Constantly, Arnold felt panicked and wanted to scream out "we're on the wrong side of the road!" but he didn't. The cab driver smelled funny. His hair was ashy and he looked buff. 

They stopped in front of the hotel. It looked like a five-star hotel. The outside was so beautiful, with flowers planted in a neat display. The windows were so clean and sparkly. The revolving door was also really pretty. 

Inside was even better than outside. There were velvet couches and the front desk was made of marble. Mr. Van Dam went to get the room keys while Helga and Arnold absorbed the scenery. 

"You two are sharing room 103," said Mr. Van Dam, giving them two golden keys. "And I will be in room 115. Have fun, and if you have any problems, please see me. Otherwise, I will be staying for a week and then be off to see my family. Okay?" 

"Okay." They both said, watching Mr. Van Dam scatter up the stairs with his luggage. 

"Come on, Helga, let's go get settled," said Arnold. She nodded and they walked to the elevator. It was crazy, really. Each of them were holding three large suitcases full of clothes and junk along with a backpack. 

Arnold wiggled the key irritably in the lock. When he managed to open the door, he was amazed at the space of their room. Two beds about ten feet from each other, both nicely kept with blue sheets. There was a huge window over-looking Paris, a TV, a large white bathroom with a bathtub and shower, and two closets. 

"Oh my…" said Helga under her breath. Her hand was placed on her chest. "This is _huge_." 

"You're telling me." They dropped their luggage in the middle of the room on top of the white carpet. 

"Okay, first of all, let's put down some ground rules to make our lives a little easier," stated Helga clearly, with a pad of paper in her hand and a pen in the other. "Rule number one: If there is an argument between the two of us, one of us must either shut up or leave the room." 

Arnold nodded, "okay. Rule number two: we do not order new and 'exciting' exotic foreign foods like escargots from room service." 

"Agreed. Rule number trois: Do not bring anyone else into the room, unless both parties are aware of you doing so…" 

"But if you do bring someone in," interjected Arnold, "do no more than just talk." 

"And rule number four: If you lose your temper, or break any of the rules, you must give to the money jar." Helga took out a glass jar from her bag and put it on the circular coffee table. "Alright, now sign at the bottom of the paper." 

Arnold read over the rules and signed at the bottom of the paper with the blue pen. Then Helga signed it as well. She taped it on the wall next to the TV. 

"I want the bed next to the window!" said Arnold, jumping on the bed. The other bed was on the other side of the room. It's like they knew that Arnold and Helga weren't sleeping with each other. 

"Don't get too excited, Arnoldo."

"Hey, Helga, are you hungry?" 

Helga thought for a second. "Yeah, actually I am pretty hungry." 

"Then let's go out for lunch. My treat," he grinned, pulling out some Euros from his pocket. 

"Alright, Mr. Rockefellar. Let's go." 

***

The streets were rocky and all the buildings looked older than their grandparents. It was really pretty though. It had a nice medieval touch, and the atmosphere was like it had just finished raining. You know, that one smell and feel after it rains…Everyone on the streets were all happy, and minding their own business. There were people sitting on the streets selling paintings, giving free tattoos, and doing funny little acts. 

"Yeah, I'll be getting one of those tattoos before we leave," said Arnold jokingly. 

"Sure, you just keep thinking that." 

They walked into a pizza place and were seated in a booth. It was funny how the French made better Italian food than the Italians. The menu was in English and French but Helga and Arnold just read the French side.They had fun putting their French to the test. But as far as they were concerned, as long as they ordered something without the words "escargot", they would be fine. 

"Hey, Arnold…what are _oignon_s?" 

"Um, I think onions." 

"Oh." 

"What is _moutard_?" 

"Mustard…" 

"Ew, spaghetti with mustard?!" Arnold stuck out his tongue in disgust. 

"Excuse moi," said the waiter. "Are you two ready to order?" he said it in a French accent. 

"Um, yes…can I have the Sausage and Onion pizza?" said Helga. 

"Oui, and you Monsier?" 

"The, uh, spaghetti with meatballs s'il vous plait." 

"Thank you." He took the menus from them and left. 

"So, Helga," began Arnold. 

"So, Arnold," she repeated. 

"When we get bored of Paris, let's go backpacking through all of Europe." 

"Backpacking?" 

"Well, sure. Just stay at cheap motels…make-out on the springy matresses…stick a pillow under your shirt to pretend you're pregnant so we can hitch hike around the place…" 

Helga laughed. But, wait, did he just say 'make-out'? By the look on his face, he did realize that he said 'make-out'. She knew him too well…he would pretend he didn't say it, hoping she thought she had said it. "hitch-hike, eh?" 

"Yeah. That's the beauty of it all." 

"How about we just stay here, and take the train around?" 

Arnold nodded slowly. "Sounds good too." 

Helga shook her head in a 'he's so stupid' kind of way and continued laughing with him. 

"Think about it: Just you and me…in Italy. Yeah, in Italy…we'll ride on Gondalas and have smelly italians sing to us while they smoke and give us a ride. Then we can feed the birds…" 

"Feed the birds?" Helga could picture the birds all being so kind to him, all gathering on his shoulders and head. Then they'd bite her…  
"Yeah. The birds." 

"What else do you have in mind?" 

"We can also go to London and try to make one of those palace guards laugh, or move, or something!" 

Helga laughed even more. "you're so stupid…" 

"But hear me out. Afterwards we can stroll around the streets…take pictures in front of Big Ben." 

"Very sweet…"

"And get some free food if you'd put a pillow under your shirt." He winked. 

Helga rolled her eyes. Then their food came. Steaming hot. Arnold took a fork and stuck it into his spaghetti, rolling it around eagerly. He lifted up his fork with a big ball of red noodles tangled around it and stuck it in his mouth. A second later, he opened his mouth slightly, fanning it with his hand. 

"So hot, hot!" he mumbled with the food in his mouth. He took the cup of water and poured it in with his food, gulping it down. "Man, that's good," he coughed. 

"How am I supposed to be seen in public with you?" she laughed. "You don't even know how to eat right." 

"I eat fine!" he pulled out a noodle with his fingers and slurped it down.

"You just keep thinking that…"

**A/N: **(1) : You're an idiot, you know that?   
                I am not!   
                Yes you are…

Don't forget to R/r! Um, I know I have a couple of spelling errors…(very minor) but…you know…oh well. 


	2. Allons y

A/N: I just had to get this chapter out…yawn it's late… 

**Disclaimer:** (I ALWAYS forget this): I do not own any Hey Arnold! characters. You all should've known that by now! 

**Summary:** Helga and Arnold: Their first night together. 

Chapter Two: Allons-y! 

The first night they spent was each other was certainly memorable. Helga and Arnold stayed up late watching French soap operas, and TV shows. It amused them to watch things in a foreign language. They also stopped by a kid's show called _Telefrancais_. Yeah, a silly ananas* could talk! Oui, c'est possible! They also played some cards. 

"Those cards look familiar," mumbled Arnold as Helga took out a box of cards from her bag.

She shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

He narrowed his eyes and gasped. "Those are _my_ cards!" 

"They are _not_!" 

"Yes! Yes they are!" he accused, "they're the _Joker_ brand, right?" 

"Yeah, so?" she gave him a blank look. 

"_Mine_ were the _Joker_ brand!" 

"Get a hold of yourself Arnold! Remember Career Day? _Everyone_ got these cards!" she sighed. "Honestly…you thought I stole these from you, kept them in my bag, and showed you I stole them?" 

Just as Arnold was about to nod, he sighed too. "You're right…you're right. I'm sorry." 

Helga grinned. "It's too bad you are, because these really are your cards." 

"WHAT?" 

She laughed, "kidding, Arnold, just kidding!" She shuffled the deck. "So what'll it be? Five-card Monty? Blackjack? Poker? War?" 

"Blackjack…" 

"Playing it safe I see. Well, I'm the dealer." Her quick hands gave him and herself two cards. 

She beat him 10-3. 

Not only did Arnold discover how good Helga was at cards, he also discovered her bathroom habits too. She'd stay in the bathroom for forty-five minutes before getting out. She would shower, pamper herself, and get _everything_ ready until she would come out. As for Arnold, he only needed twenty minutes in the bathroom. You jump in and jump out of the shower, and then just brush for two minutes, yadda, yadda, yadda; frankly, he couldn't understand why it took Helga so long to get ready. 

Although it did pay off. When she walked out of the bathroom, he could smell a light scent of Cucumber Melon as the steam rolled out. She looked so good with her hair wrapped up in a towel and wearing a bathrobe. He liked the way she kept the bathroom neat and tidy also. 

"Okay, Arnold, you can use the bathroom now," she said. 

"What's that smell?" he asked in the wrong tone. 

"It's Cucumber Melon. What, you think it smells bad?" 

"No, not at all…" 

"Just admit it! You think it smells like crap, don't you?" She put her hands on her hips. 

"I do not!" he growled, "quite the contrary, I think it smells great!" 

Helga cracked a smile. "Glad you think so."

That night he couldn't sleep. He just looked out at the window, at the stars. Paris was so different from the city. So tranquil, and calm...it was just beautiful out there. The thing he was most fixated on was the illuminated Eiffel Tower. Everyone raves about how romantic it is, and how everyone finds love in Paris. 

What he would give for something like that to happen to him.  
He looked over at Helga on the other side of the room. 

She was rolled up tightly with the blanket up to her chin wearing her pink pajamas. Her hair was in pigtails. Arnold remembered the days when she used to wear her hair in pig tails. Now she just had it up in a high ponytail or let it down. Actually, she barely let it down. Only for special occasions. But, oh, Arnold loved the way she looked with her hair down.

And for once she looked angelic. A side of her he had not seen before. He smiled slightly, and then Helga started to snore. Not just any snore; but a loud snore. 

Okay, so maybe she wasn't so angelic anymore. But who cares? She was a great lay...in his dreams. 

The next morning, while Arnold was in the shower, Helga woke up wearily. Her mouth felt like gunk, and her eyes were blurry. 9:00. She got out of bed, scratched her head, stretched her arms and walked to the bathroom. Opened the door, and walked into lots of steam. 

"Wha...?" she mumbled to herself. Suddenly she realized, Arnold was in the shower. She didn't go any further than one step inside the door, but she could hear him singing _Rain Drops Keep Falling On My Head_. She didn't even dare to turn her head to look at him. Quickly, she stormed out of there, closing the door. 

"Oh my," she said to herself, her hand on her chest, feeling her heart beat a mile a minute. Yeah, she had seen half naked guys before, but then...this was different. She's only seen him with his shirt off in the summer once or twice. But seeing him completely nude was just crazy. Not like she did see him...but nearly! 

Arnold's stomach grumbled. He stepped out of the shower with a plush white towel around his waist and another around his shoulders and opened the door slightly, sticking his head out. "Hey, Helga." 

Helga was leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door. 

"Sorry if I kept you waiting," he mumbled.

"No," she shook her head, "not at all." She tried not to look at his wet hair which always turned her on.

"I'm kind of hungry, why don't you order some breakfast from room service? I'll be out in seven minutes." He was toweling off his hair with an end of the towel. 

"Oh okay, what do you want?" 

"Anything is fine, and the menu is on the coffee table, okay?" 

Helga nodded and he closed the door. _Why does he do this to me?_ She drew in a deep breath and could smell the Old Spice Arnold used lurking around in the air. 

"Hello? Service d'étage?" Helga asked after pressing the "#" button on the phone. "Oui, um," she looked over the menu, "Je voudrais une tranche de pâté en croûte de pomme, d'un ordre des oeufs et du lard, et de deux ordres des crêpes, et de deux ordres de pain grillé français. Ah, et deux verres de jus d'orange. Pièce 103. Merci." 

She hung up. 

Arnold, fully dressed (thank God), walked up next to her. "What'd you order?" 

"I ordered two glasses of orange juice, one slice of apple pie, and order of eggs and bacon, two orders of french toast, and two orders of pancakes." She smacked her lips together. 

"You remembered..." he smiled. 

"Of course I remember, you're the one who likes eggs and bacon." she sat down on the chair by the coffee table. "I mean, it was only one of the most important meal of our lives." 

"I guess," he said, sitting next to her. 

"You guess?" she repeated. "It was, like, the last meal we had with our two best friends! Phoebe was going off back to Kentucky, and Gerald and his family moved to California for his dad's job. Well, it wouldn't have made a difference now anyway. Phoebe would be off to Harvard, or Stanford..." 

"Gerald would've gone to Michigan State on a basketball scholarship," he sighed. 

"And we," she said, "we are going off to Columbia." 

Arnold leaned back in his chair. "And you remembered what I ate for that breakfast?" 

"You clearly stated 'every good breakfast must include eggs and bacon'. Phoebe had the blueberry pancakes, Gerald had the steak and eggs, and they were still feeding each other. They must've been sadder than us." 

"Yeah, after all, they were one hell of a couple. And I remember you had, what was it? Oh yes...french toast. With syrup on the side." 

Helga nodded. "It totally drenches the toast with the syrup on top." she paused for a moment, "So, do you still talk to Gerald?" 

"On and off...do you talk to Phoebe?" 

"I suppose. Just. You know, we're both...busy." 

"Busy?" 

"Yes, busy. Do you have a problem with that?" 

"No, not at all. It's just that I was with you all the time after they left." 

"No you weren't." 

"Yes I was." 

"No," she shook her head, "you weren't. You were with _Lila_ for most of the time until you two broke up at the beginning of senior year." 

"I don't know anyone by the name of Lila," he replied coldly. "As far as I'm concerned, that name reminds me of a stuck-up, conceited, bratty, no-brained, pig-nosed bitch who has no feelings what-so-ever..." 

"Whoa there, Arnold! She broke your heart, so what? There are other fish in the sea, as I told you before." 

He sighed. "Yeah, sorry I over-reacted a bit." 

"A bit?" She laughed. 

"After breakfast," he continued – changing the subject, "we're going to go somewhere...special." 

"Special? You mean, we're going to go to see Simmons?!" 

Arnold pushed the side of her head with his two fingers jokingly and chuckled. There was a knock on the door.  "Breakfast!" he grinned and joined his hands together. 

***

After breakfast, Helga had to hurrily get ready for Arnold. It was just quickly soap, soap, soap; lather, lather, lather; rinse, rinse, rinse. Pluck the eyebrows, put on the mascara, glob on the lipstick, slap on the powder, and just put on whatever was on top of the drawer. 

"Okay, okay! _Allons-y_!" he pulled her by the arm out the door. 

"Man, Arnoldo, what's the rush? You act like you're late for a hot date or something..." she murmered. 

He glanced at her quickly. 

"Oh no, nuh-uh," she said hastily, "you are _not_ taking me on your little date with Cecile." 

"It's not a date..." he said in the elevator. "I'm just going to meet her." 

"Where?" 

"It's not important..." 

"Where?" she said in a sharper tone. 

He sighed. "A café in the middle of town..." he grumbled. 

"A café? Sounds like a date to me." she crossed her arms. "I should've known by the way you dressed." 

"The way I dressed?" he opened his arms and looked at himself up and down. "What's up with the way I dressed?" 

"Well, first of all, you're wearing really nice shoes. Not your regular sneakers, you're wearing a vest over a polo shirt, which I know as a fact you barely wear, and you've also got too much cologne on." she waved her hand in front of her nose. 

Arnold lifted up an arm and sniffed. "It is _not_ a lot. And I just want to make a good impression." 

Helga rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I really don't want to interfere with the two of you love birds." 

"You wouldn't be interfering!" 

Helga arched her right eyebrow. 

"C'mon, Helga...I need you there with me. You're the person who keeps me going, and keeps me lively. You're practically my best friend now. Please?" His eyes so big and blue, so wanting...needy...

"Ugh, fine!" she pursed her lips. Damn, why does he keep doing this to her? "But you owe me!" 

They walked out of the elevator and began walking to the subway. 

The subway was really big and busy. All the people in there were so active. There were old men missing teeth with long grey hair begging for money. Young French boys with pony-tails had guitars and were singing songs in an awful key. The most amusing thing Helga and Arnold saw was a lady with a child in a wheelchair missing half of his leg, she was also begging for money. It was so sad, Helga wanted to give them a coin or something! but Arnold kept insisting that if she had to give it to one person, she would have to give to everyone. 

And that was a lot of people. 

Then a subway train (I really don't know what they're called...) pulled up. Helga and Arnold walked in along with another group of people. They found all the seats full, and they had no choice but to hold on to one of those things which hung from the top of the train. (A/N: Man, my subway vocab is very low...) 

There was a loud buzz and the doors closed, then _whoosh_! the train went super fast. 

"So, Arnold, do you know where we get off? Or are we just going to wing it?" 

"We get off of the stop after the next one. Then we have to walk a couple of blocks." he looked up for a second and nodded, "yeah, I think that's it..." 

"How do you know?" 

"Oh, because Cecile told me. I called her before we even got on the plane." 

"You called long distance?" she asked in disbelief. 

He shrugged. "Well, yeah." 

Helga rolled her eyes and the train stopped. She let go of her grip and shook her hand, letting it breathe a little. Curse her palms...they always got so moist when she gripped something too long. She must have missed the loud buzz, but once the train took off again, the force of it made Helga fall back.

With a squeak, she fell back on an old grey-bearded french man. Quickly, she stood up and apologized. He just grumbled. 

"That was so embarassing," she muttered to Arnold.

"No," he snickered, "that was _funny_." 

Angrily, she pushed him and he fell over too. 

A couple of minutes later, they arrived at their stop. They got off and walked up to the surface. 

"Man, it's bright," Helga groaned, with her hand over her eyes. "Now which way do we walk?" 

"Uh," he stuttered, looking left and right. "Right." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, c'mon." they began walking, passing grocery stores, and cheese stores, and bakeries. 

After fifteen minutes, Helga began to get cranky. "Arnold, this is stupid, I think we've been walking the wrong way for fifteen minutes! Shouldn't we be there by now?" 

"In a second!" He was really beginning to worry himself. There they were. Two tourists in a foreign country, lost. How perfect. He looked across the street and saw a sign that said _Au Café_. 

"There it is!" he exclaimed happily. 

"Obviously," she muttered. But Arnold didn't hear her. He practically carried her off across the empty street to the café. 

There were a few round tables on the outside with red and white umbrellas. The _Au Café_ sign was painted brightly on the white wall. Inside was cool, and there were quite a few people. It looked just the way Arnold had pictured it. Nice and cozy…

Then he caught sight of a French girl, sitting solemnly by the window in the corner. Nothing was on her table but a notebook with the word _Cecile _written largely on the cover. She had beautiful blonde hair, big soft eyes, and rosy complexion. 

Finally, after all these years…he finally saw her. 

Cecile. 

**A/N:** *ananas = pineapple. I don't know if you've seen _Telefrancais_ before. Hehe, I have. Well, anyways…you know that whole incident with Helga falling on that man? That actually happened to me when I went to Paris. 

Yeah, very sad. 

Please R/R! Hope you learned a lot today. Haha. 


	3. Isn't it Obvious?

**Summary:** Arnold with Cecile…Helga is jealous…

**Disclaimer:**** I Do NOT own Hey Arnold! **Silly nits: I thought you'd know by now. I also do not own the song "Obvious" by Christina Aguilera. 

Chapter Three: Isn't it Obvious? 

**A/N:** Shira: well, we must admit that that episode of Cecile and Arnold was quite a while ago. Helga only posed as Cecile, and Cecile is actually a real person. Yup…   
Oh and I tried to incorporate a song into this chapter. I'm not very good at songfics…*bleh* 

"Cecile?" Arnold stuttered, as he approached her cautiously. 

She turned around and smiled warmly. "Arnold?" she got up and opened her arms. "It eez so good to see you!" They kissed on both cheeks. "Sit down, please!" 

Arnold sat down across from her, still in awe. Though there was something different about her. She wasn't what he thought she would be like. Helga cleared her throat. "Oh yeah," he got up quickly, "and this is my friend, Helga." 

"Salut," Cecile said enthusiastically and smiled. 

Helga gave her a fake grin and sat down next to Arnold. 

"Here is ze menu," she handed Arnold a menu. 

He looked over it quickly, "Maybe I'll have the croque-monsier…" 

"Sounds good," mumbled Helga. "I think I'll have a cheese sandwich." 

"Oui, I'm having ze hamburger…"

The waiter came. "Vous avez choisi?"(1) 

"Oui, donnez-moi un croque-monsier et une limonade," said Arnold. (2)

"Je voudrais un sandwich au fromage et un coca," smiled Helga. (3)

"Donnez-moi les hamburger et un citron presse, s'il vous plait." (4)She grinned and flipped her hair out of her face. She had really silky brown hair that flowed past her shoulders. So long and flowy, it just made Arnold adore her even more. 

Helga, on the other hand, did not like it. She hated the way it reminded her of Lila. So utterly like a Little Miss Perfect. But why should she hate her anyway? She had no motive, no reason…but then you see the way Arnold's staring at her. 

There was a new girl on her hit list now. 

"So, Arnold," she said, "it has been a long time." 

Arnold nodded. "A very long time…" 

Helga rolled her eyes. 

"How is, um, Gerald?" Gerald had a little accent in it. 

"He's fine. I think…we lost touch because he moved during High School." 

"Oh, that iz too bad!" She pouted and Helga noticed her pink lipstick and gloppy mascara. "He was a very nice person." 

Arnold nodded again. 

"How are you liking Paris so far?" she asked him. 

"I like it a lot, it's really beautiful," he smiled. 

Helga cleared her throat. 

"Yeah, Helga likes it too, don't you Helga?" he didn't even turn her way. 

"Yep…" she muttered under her breath and sank down in her chair. Suddenly she didn't feel very welcomed. Arnold and Cecile began to engage in a conversation about everything except for Helga. Then the food came. 

"So," began Cecile, "are you and Helga a couple?" 

"No," Arnold said immediately. "We're just, friends." 

_Right,_ Helga thought, _just friends…_

"Oh I see!" she grinned. "Where are ze two of you going to later?" 

"Maybe the Louvre…" said Arnold. "Would you like to come with us?" 

Helga kicked his shin. 

He bit his lip and glared at Helga. 

"I'm sorry, I'm going to be busy the rest of ze day. Maybe some other time?" 

"Sure…that's cool." He grinned. "But it would be nice to have a tour guide around Paris." 

"You make me blush!" she laughed and touched her cheeks. 

Helga mimicked her silently, moving her mouth with an ugly expression on her face. "Um, Arnold," she began, "since we're done eating and all, don't you think we should get going? I mean, we do want to get back to the hotel before it's too dark." 

Arnold looked at Helga briefly to see the uncomfortable look on her face. "Yeah…we should." He turned to Cecile and put a wad of cash on the table. "That's for lunch. Merci beaucoup," he grinned. 

"Au revoir Arnold, au revoir Helga." She waved good-bye to them as they walked out of the café. 

Helga punched his arm when they were a block away from the café. 

"Ouch, damnit, what was that for?" he cursed, rubbing his arm. 

"For wasting my time!" she growled, "it was like I didn't even exist! And you…you didn't even bother to even look my way twice!" she punched him again. __

"Ouch!" he growled, "I'm sorry…I'll make it up to you…I'll buy you an ice cream later?" 

"I'm not ten years old!" 

"C'mon, Helga…don't tell me you're jealous of Cecile." He chuckled. 

ºCan you hear it in my voice  
 was it something I let slip?  
Does the whole world know  
isn't it obvious?º

"I am not." She crossed her arms. 

"Aw, Helga…you _are_ jealous." 

"Am _not_!" she punched his arm again. 

He laughed and put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her. He turned her around to look at him straight in the eyes, "let's just get to the Louvre and forget about all of this. How does that sound?" 

Helga couldn't do anything about it. She always gave in to his charm. "Okay," she said almost reluctantly, looking at the ground. 

"Okay." He leaned in and kissed her forehead, and put his arm around her. "Now let's go." 

***

"Isn't that a magnificent painting, Arnold?" Helga sighed softly. "I mean, look at the use of reds," her hand swayed with the color of Louis XIV's red curtains in the background. 

"Yeah, man," he shook his head, "that man was rich…" 

"Duh, Arnoldo, he was only king. But look at his expression. You can't get art like that anymore." 

"No, you can't…" he looked more closely at the painting. "Wow, is that…is he wearing tights?" he snickered. 

Helga shoved her elbow in his stomach. "Shut up…" 

They walked over to another painting. This painting was huge and was half the height of the wall. It had a golden frame. It was of Napoleon crowning some woman, Helga thinks it was Josephina (?). It was so beautiful…and elaborate. The bright colors, and the dark crowd in the stands. Though it was dark, they could still see the expression on their faces. It was magnificent. 

"Wow," Helga put her hand on her chest. "This is…" 

"Beautiful," Arnold finished. "Just…"

"Incredible." Helga stood there in awe. "I wish I could do that…" 

"Be crowned as Princess?" 

"No! paint!" Helga smiled, "but the only problem is that I have no paints or anything." She laughed softly. 

"Yeah, that's just a minor problem…" 

"Did you bring the camera?" she wondered, extending her arm and opened her palm. 

"Camera?" he repeated. "I thought you were going to bring the camera…I mean you _do_ have that bag and all…" 

Helga gasped and slapped her forehead. "Damnit, I didn't bring the camera…" 

"Why not? You bring _everything_ in your purse!" 

"Well, you were rushing me!" she stomped her foot. Just as she was about to scream, Arnold put his hand over her mouth. 

"Frankly, Helga, this is not the right place to be screaming." He whispered in her ear. She blushed. "I thought you'd know that." 

ºI'm the one who's in control  
now I'm acting like a fool  
do my feelings show  
 is my face aglow  
Isn't it obvious?º

He took his hand off of her face. "Are we going to be okay now?" He searched for her eyes. 

Helga just nodded. 

"Okay, good." 

They continued to look at the different exhibits, and talked about each one. They were all so stunning, and big…and the Mona Lisa, oh my! A whole room just for this one painting which took Leonardo 7 years to complete. Arnold and Helga jokingly walked across the room a couple of times to see if her eyes really did follow. 

After spending about 3-4 hours in the Louvre, they've pretty much seen everything except for the Exit. The museum was so big, and there were so many people, Helga confused herself. They didn't really go out, they actually went into a gift shop instead. 

Inside the gift shop, they sold prints of paintings, books, toys, puzzles, and things like that. Also, voila! A disposable camera. But Helga had to debate about it with herself; they _did_ bring a nice digital camera…was a disposable camera really necessary? 

One day without a camera wouldn't make a big difference anyway. They'd come back…

Helga walked away from the camera and looked for Arnold. It was quite a big gift shop. Two floors. "Arrnoolldd," she hummed, "where are you?" 

She found Arnold on the second floor talking with a little French girl. She didn't want him to see her so she hid behind a bookcase and peeked at him through the corner of her eyes. 

"Êtes-vous les Etats-Unis?" the girl asked eagerly. (5)

"Oui…je suis." Arnold grinned. 

Her eyes widened and grinned happily. "Ronald McDonald vit-il lá?" 

"Oui, je l'ai vu avant aussi." 

"vraiment?" 

Arnold nodded. 

"Wow!" she smiled. "A-t-il un nez rouge?" 

"Oui! Et grandes chaussures souples rouge!" 

"Magnifique!" she squealed. Then her mother came along. 

"Ah, Madeline!" she exasperated, "Je vous avais recherché partout!" (6)

"La mère désolée, mais moi avaient parlé à ce garçon au sujet de Ronald McDonald!" she pointed to Arnold. "c'était intéressant!" 

"Bien, nous devons aller maintenant." She took her daughter's small hand in hers and looked up at Arnold. "Merci de s'occuper d'elle." 

"Ce n'était aucun problème, elle était amusement à parler à." He said, and waved good-bye to them as they walked away. 

Helga melted instantly. Arnold was so sweet with kids. It was definitely a turn-on for her. As she walked towards him, she tripped over a box on the floor. So much for trying to be graceful. 

ºThat I don't know what I'm doing anymore  
I'm feeling like a little girl  
caught up in emotions  
I'm out of control  
Isn't it obvious?º

"Oof!" she fell on the ground. 

"Helga!" Arnold said worriedly, quickly standing next to her, helping her up from the ground. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah," she rubbed her elbow. "I should be fine…but who in the right mind would be able to see that box in the middle of the floor?" 

"Are you sure you're going to be okay? Nothing's broken or anything, right?" He still had a hold of her arms. 

"Right, right," she said hastily. "I don't need your help." 

"Alright," Arnold put his hands up in the air. 

Helga straightened up and took a step and fell back. Damn her shoes! Luckily Arnold caught her from behind. He was just fast like that. She went crazy when he touched her. Arnold put his arms around her from the back while holding her hands and he began to walk. Helga stumbled along with him.

"Arnold you're crazy, we can't walk like this the whole way." 

"Just until we get out of the gift shop. There's something up with the friction between the floor and your shoes." He had a strong hold on Helga. So strong that even if she were there limp, he would still keep her from slumping down. 

"I feel like I'm two and need someone to help me walk," she mumbled. 

"You're not two, but you _do_ need me to help you walk." 

ºDo you see my hands, they tremble  
Wonder why I can't look you in the eyes  
Don't know how long  
I can keep this inside  
Isn't it obvious?º

Everyone stared as they walked down the stairs like that and walked out the door. Helga felt so embarrassed. Just when they stepped out the door, Helga's cheeks began to cool off. 

"I think you're going to be able to walk now…" mumbled Arnold. 

"Okay." She paused. "Why aren't you letting me go?" 

"Oh, right." He let go of Helga carefully. Seems like he was caught in the moment like Helga. "What time is it?" he wondered. 

Helga looked at her watch. "Hmm…it's five." 

"I think we should get back to the hotel. I mean…yeah. We'll order room service and find out how to get to the Eiffel Tower." He grinned. 

"Sounds like a plan to me!" 

They walked out of the Louvre with their arms linked together. After walking for about a block with no subway, they discovered that they were lost and tired. 

"Arnold," growled Helga, "I can't walk anymore. We've been walking the whole day! And I'm hungry…and I think we're lost." 

"Nonsense…we're not lost. And, sure, we're hungry and tired…but let's not have that keep us down!" 

Helga rolled her eyes and sat down on the curb. She leaned her cheek on her hand. "What now?" 

Arnold looked around as people walked by. "Excusez-moi!" he said. They just walked by him. "Pardon, Mademoiselle?" 

"Face it, Arnold…they're not going to help us." 

Arnold pulled Helga up from the curb. "They will if you put my shirt under your dress." 

Helga shook her head. "Sure, when Hell freezes over!" 

"Do you want to get back to the Hotel and eat something or not?"  

She bit her lip and groaned. "Fine!" 

Arnold took off his plaid shirt and mushed it into a ball and gave it to Helga. All he had on now was a white shirt and jeans. Helga turned around and stuffed it into her dress. The waist line was fitted, so his shirt nearly tore it. She put her hands under the fake stomach and had a grumpy look on her face. 

Someone walked by. "Svp! Quelqu'un nous aident, mon épouse est dans le travail!"(7) Arnold pleaded. "Please! My wife is in labor, can someone help us?" 

Helga began to moan and scream. Arnold put a hand on Helga's stomach. 

"nous avons besoin juste d'un tour au souterrain!" he said. "We just need a ride to the subway." 

Helga began to moan even louder. 

The lady Arnold was pleading to told them to follow her to her car. Helga and Arnold rode in the backseat of her car as she raced to the subway. Helga had to fake breathing exercises…Hee, hee, hoo…hee, hee, hoo…Arnold pretended to wipe her forehead with a napkin. 

She stopped in front of the subway entrance and made sure if Helga was okay and if they needed any help. How sweet…Once they got out of the car, and out of the lady's sight, Helga took his shirt out. 

"You were magnificent!" he laughed under ground. "All those 'hee, hee, hoos' and that moaning!" 

Helga giggled along. "Yeah, well, don't think I'm going to do that again." 

The train pulled up in front of them and this time they were lucky enough to get two seats next to each other. Helga let out a deep breath, and slumped down next to Arnold. She put her head on his shoulder and had his plaid shirt on her legs. "Are we going to ride this straight to the hotel?" 

"Yeah," he patted her head. "Then we have to walk for another block." 

Helga pouted. "That sucks…" 

"Unless you're thinking of what I'm thinking…" he laughed. 

"Oh please!" Helga laughed and hit him jokingly. She smiled as Arnold played with her pony-tail. 

ºSuddenly these emotions are in control of my heart  
Can you see it in my eyes  
Every glance, every smile must give me away  
And I feel so much I can't hideº

"Why do they call it a pony tail?" he wondered aloud. "and pigtails…that's stupid…" 

Helga looked up and him and began to laugh again. 

"I'm serious!" he said, chuckling himself.

**A/N:2 **French lesson for today: 

(1): "Have you chosen?"   
(2): "Bring me the croque-monsier and a 7up" (Croque-monsier = Ham and cheese, Limonade – something like 7up. You know?)   
(3): "I'd like a cheese sandwich and cola."   
(4): "Bring me a hamburger and orange juice, please."   
(5): "Are you from the United States?"   
 - Yes, I am   
 - Doesn't Ronald McDonald live there?   
 - Yes, and I've seen him before too.   
 - really?   
 - Does he have a red nose?   
 - Yes! And big red shoes too!   
(6) –Ah, Madeline!, I've been looking for you everywhere!   
 - Sorry, Mother but I've been talking to this man about Ronald McDonald! , it was interesting!  
 - Well, we must go now. , thank you for keeping my daughter occupied.   
 -  It was no problem, she was very fun to talk to. 

REMEMBER! For most of these, I used a translator…they may not be accurate. I'm SSOOORRRYY!!! 

And I'd like to give a special thanks to kitkatkidd2004 for helping me with Cecile. =) 

If you've gotten this far, you might as well R/R! 


	4. Hairy Legs

A/N: Sorry this took so long…if you're wondering about my other story that I had up briefly, I'm sorry…I accidentally deleted it. I will have it back up eventually. Once again, it is night time. Enjoy your French lesson! 

**Summary:** Helga wonders about hairy legs and french woman, and Arnold gets slapped. Witness them together in Paris…

Chapter Four: Hairy Legs 

_Dear Miriam and Big Bob,   
   How are things going? Over here things are fine. Paris is beautiful. Hope you two are enjoying your time alone and without me.   
 Sincerely,   
 Helga _

_Dear Phoebe,   
   What's up? How's summer going for you? Right now I'm in Paris with Arnold. Everything's great. He's been very fun…and…yeah. There is not much I can say. It's just times like these I wish that you were with me instead of Arnold. It's so hard not to fall for him, so hard. I miss you, Phoebe. I wish we could've talked more than we already do. Help me survive!!   
 Paris is beautiful, by the way. I'll send you pictures.   
 - Helga   
PS. Arnold says Hi. _

_Dear Grandma and Grandpa,   
  I miss you guys. Paris is great! I met Cecile and she's wonderful. Helga is doing fine too. It's amazing how we're actually getting along and staying in the same place. I don't think we would've been able to 9 years ago. Thanks for all the money too. It's been a great help.   
 Grandpa – I hope you're doing okay.   
 Grandma – I hope you're fine…  
 I'll send pictures later.   
 Love,   
Arnold _

_Gerald,   
 Sup? Paris is great. I met Cecile and she even asked about you. I said you were doing okay. Of course, we hardly write to each other. So, I thought I'd send you this letter from Paris. It's a beautiful place, man.   
 - Arnold   
PS Helga says Hi. _

"Okay, so today we're going to…" Helga began. 

"Stay here and watch _Telefrancais_!" Arnold laughed. 

Helga shoved him. "No! We have to deliver these letters!" 

"Do we _have_ to?" 

"Yes!" she groaned, stomping her feet. 

"Ah, you're losing your temper! You must give to the money jar! Whatever's in your pocket, c'mon now Helga…" he took the jar from the table and waved it in her face. There were a few coins already in there because Arnold had gotten irritated about Helga hogging the remote the other night. 

Helga sighed and reached in her jeans and took out five coins and dropped them in the glass jar. "Happy now?" 

"Very." 

Arnold yawned and stretched out his arms. "I don't feel like going out today." 

"But it's such a bright and sunny day!" Helga complained, "you're such an idiot! Why don't you feel like going out?" 

que music 

"I think that I'll go for a walk outside now, the summer time's calling my name, can you hear it now, I just can't stay inside all day, I wanna get out and get me some of those rays. Everybody's smiling, sunshine day! Everybody seems so happy today…" Helga burst singing. 

music stops 

Helga fell back on the bed. "That was strange." 

"You're telling me," Arnold said. There was an awkward pause. "So, does this mean we're going to stay in the room and watch TV?" 

Helga threw a pillow at his face. 

***

"I can't believe I'm out here and not watching _Telefrancais_." Arnold grumbled. He wore dark sunglasses, shorts, and a baggy t-shirt. 

"Oh, stop your whining, Hair Boy." Helga pushed him. 

They were at the post office buying stamps, which were unusually expensive. 

Helga sat down at a big table and placed the stamps on each of the letters and wrote the addresses. Arnold walked around and looekd at the postcards on display. He took one out of the basket. It had a picture of the Notre Dame. As he put it back, the whole basket collapsed. Arnold tried catching it, but it slipped thorugh his fingers. Quickly, he ran next to Helga side as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

"You're so stupid," she mumbled. 

"Shh. I _don't_ know what you're talking about." He snapped. 

Helga rolled her eyes again and got up with all the letters in her hands. She put them in the mailbox outside and they began walking. 

"Where to?" he wondered.

"Let's go see le arc de triumph." 

"Alright. And do a little faire les magisins?" (1) 

"Definitely. Champs-Elysses." 

"Sounds good to me. Allonz-y, Madamoiselle." 

They decided to take a bus to the Arc of Triumph. Inside the bus, there were many smelly people and some tourists from the United States wearing hawaiian shirts and big sunglasses with five cameras around their necks. 

They got off in front of the big arc which all the cars drove around in circles. And right next to the Arc of Triumph is the famous Champs-Elysses shopping street. Full of designer stores and fancy places. Think Rodeo Drive in France (kind of). 

"Okay Arnold, move a little to your right. No, your other right. Your _other_ right…a little more," mumbled Helga, looking through the screen of the digital camera. "Perfect." She took a picture of Arnold making a goofy face. "I know your grandparents will love it." 

"Your turn, Princess." 

"No, I really don't want to." 

"C'mon, Helga," said Arnold, trying to take the camera from her. "The camera doesn't bite." 

"Really…it's OK." 

"What are you so afraid of? It's not like you're ugly or anything." 

"I just don't like taking pictures…" 

"You _have_ to. It's _good_ for you. And I'm going to want one when we get back." 

"What?" she asked blankly. 

"Just give me the fucking camera!" 

Helga groaned and gave him the camera. She stepped back a couple of steps. "Back more…" she went back more. "Okay, now smile." Helga gave him a fake smile. "Now really, smile. Show me your pretty smile those braces gave you. Work the camera, Baby." He joked. Helga cracked a real smile and giggled. 

"Ah, c'est magnifique…tu est belle." He grinned. (2)

"Oh shut up," she blushed furiously. "I think we've seen enough of this…" 

"Êtes-vous sûr?" Arnold asked. (3)

"Oui. Je veux aller faire les magisns." (4)

"Um…excusez-moi," stammered a red headed lady with freckles. She had a texan accent with her french words. 

"Oui?" Helga mumbled. 

"Uh…do you speak Angalais?" she said very slurred and slowly. 

Helga rolled her eyes. "Yes." 

"Whew! Fantastic. Can you take a picture of us?" She still insisted on saying each word slowly and pointed to her and her husband. 

"Sure." 

They stood in front of the camera. "Just press the red button!" 

Helga couldn't believe how dense she was. Didn't she know that French people don't go hanging around at places like that with cameras? "Say Cheese!" Snap. She took a crappy picture for them. 

"Thank – you." The lady smiled. 

"No problem." 

"That was funny," smirked Arnold. "That must mean you look French." 

"Spare me, Arnoldo. I'm kind of hungry…" 

"Me too. You know, I think I saw a McDonalds around here somewhere." 

"Awesome. I'm really starving." 

They walked down the street and passed one McDonald's because it was terribly stuffy and because Arnold said he knew a better McDonald's still down the street. He took her in through glass double doors and walked down a flight of stairs right next to the doors which led to a huge McDonalds. 

Music was pumping loudly, and teenagers hung around. There were CDs plastered to the wall, and listening stations. It was awesome. The atmosphere was great. 

"You go find a table, and I'll get us some food," Arnold whispered in her ear. 

Helga nodded and squeezed through people. She sat down at a round table with TVs around the walls showing music videos of the music playing in the speakers. Surrounding her, was a table of girls and a family. She wanted to see if they girls shaved their legs. I mean, they _were_ wearing shorts. 

Helga bent over a little, pretending to stretch. _Just a little lower,_ she thought, _and I can see…_

"Arg!" she grunted, falling over. 

She saw Arnold above her with a tray of food. "I'm not even going to ask…" 

He sat down across from her as she sat up properly in the seat. She curved her finger for him to lean in closer to her. "Check if those girls shaved their legs." 

"What?" Arnold asked in disbelief. "You want me to what?!" 

"Please? I've been dying to know since forever." 

"You eat your food and be happy about it." He tossed a cheeseburger in front of her and took a bite into his own hamburger and took some fries. He got them two orders of fries and two drinks and two burgers. 

Helga took a bite out of her cheeseburger angrily and sipped her soda. Her eyes never left the two girls' table. She couldn't see their legs no matter how she fidgeted in her seat. 

"Helga, you have got to be the saddest person on earth. Is it really that important to you?" 

"Yes. Yes it is." She kept staring. "C'mon Arnold…all you have to do is get a little friendly with them, and then you can glance at them yourself!" 

"What? You want me to hit on them now?" Arnold lowered his voice so he wouldn't draw attention to himself. 

Helga nodded. "They're french girls. They're suckers for American guys…c'mon. Please?" she pouted. "Please, Arnold?" 

Arnold groaned. "Fine…fine. But are you sure they're french?" 

"Absolutely!" 

"You owe me big time…" 

"I'll give you all my fries!" she grinned. 

Arnold walked up to them and flashed a toothy grin. "Bonjour Madamoiselles." 

The two girls giggled and blushed furiously. "Bonjour," the girl with dangling earing said. 

"Comment ca va?" he asked. Helga rolled her eyes. (5)

"Tres bien," she answered. "Et toi?" (6) 

"Ca va…" he rocked his head to the beat slowly. "vous savez, je ne vois pas beaucoup de jolies filles comme vous deux souvent…" he winked. (7) 

"Svp, asseyez-vous," said the other girl, patting the seat next to hers. (8) 

Arnold sat down and still had his smiling face on.

"Ainsi comment joli nous pensez-vous êtes-vous?" the girl asked, biting on her tongue. (9)

"Plus joli que le Mona Lisa." He said. "Plus jolie que n'importe quelle femme aux Etats-Unis, celui est pour sûr." (10) 

"l'OH ainsi vous sont un Américain?" the other asked in amusement. "Nous pensons les garçons américains sommes étonnants." She smiled. (11) 

Arnold drew in a silent deep breath and put his hand on the girl's knee and tried to feel if she shaved her legs. Instead, she gapsed and slapped him across his face. "Secousse," she snapped. (12)

Arnold got up and walked back to his seat across from Helga. 

The French girls mumbled, "J'ai connu les garçons américains ai toujours pensé au sexe, mais je ne les ai pas connus serais tellement en avant à son sujet." (13)

Helga tried covering her laugh. But it didn't work. "Sorry about that, Arnold." 

"Give me your damn fries." 

***

After looking around for an hour more, they had only bought two shirts that said "I love Paris", and Helga bought herself a new pair of capris. They decided to go see the Eiffel Tower and hang around there until night time. 

"Now where?" Arnold asked. 

"Let's go to the Eiffel Tower!" Helga grinned. 

"Alright…" they walked to the subway and rode for a couple of minutes and walked a couple of blocks and reached the big Eiffel Tower. It was just as beautiful as Helga imagined. There were people selling french bread and flowers on the street and on the opposite side, there was a beautiful garden. People were having picnics and kids were running around. 

"Wow. This is everything I thought it would be," awed Helga. "Isn't it great?" 

"Yeah. It's really big."

"Well, obviously!" she shook her head. "I can't believe I'm here. I've always wanted to come here. I mean, just to see the Eiffel Tower. One of the most beautiful sights in the world…" as she continued on, Arnold bought a little bunch of flowers tied together. 

"Let's just make this visit perfect then. Here," he handed her the orange and yellow flowers. "For you." 

Helga put it to her nose and took a sniff of the flowers. "Lovely, Arnold." 

"Now let's go up and see Paris from its highest point." He linked his arm with hers as they squeezed in an elevator and rode it all the way to the top. They walked to the edge of the tower and looked at the bottom. 

"This is amazing," sighed Helga. 

Arnold put his arm around her. "Yeah. It's an amazing view." He glanced at her as she stared out at all of Paris in the utmost awe. She looked like she was five years old, seeing Mickey Mouse for the first time at Disneyland. She had a nice essence of sexiness he couldn't get out of his head, and her hair was so nice and shiney. 

"Mm," she smiled, "I could stay here forever." 

"Yeah…" 

"This has got to be the best place in Paris. Seriously. I love this view…I love everything about this tower. I love how I can be on top of the world and not have anyone look down upon me." 

"I have never once looked down on you," said Arnold. 

She turned her head and looked at him. Inches away from his face. "You've got to be kidding me." 

"I kid you not. You were always so strong. With everything. Never once did I see you flinch or even shed a tear. You had such a spunk in you, and a spark. Whenever you entered a room, you made sure people knew." 

"What's your point?" 

"My point is that you have qualities I wish I possessed." 

"Oh please," laughed Helga. "You'd like my annoying qualities?" 

"They're hardly annoying. I found them unique and charming." He grinned. 

Helga shook her head and blushed. "You're one in a million, Hair-Boy. Really, one in a million." 

For this moment, Arnold felt totally at ease with Helga. He wanted to touch her, and take her in his arms and smother her with kisses. He wanted to strip off her clothes and have her right then and there. 

He shook his head. "I think we should go down." 

"But we've only just gotten up here," pleaded Helga. 

"Oh my goodness! Arnold?" a voice screached. 

Arnold and Helga turned around. "Cecile?" Arnold gasped. He let go of Helga instantly and put a crooked smile on his face. "What are you doing here?" 

"My cousin, François is visiting from another city. We decided to come over here and get a little, how you say, fresh air," she said cheerfully. 

The man standing next to her was tall, lean, well-built with untamed dark brown hair. He had a slightly scratchy face. His eyes were big and he had a long, thin nose and perfect lips. He was probably the sexiest man alive. Especially wearing a nearly skin-tight black shirt and faded jeans. 

Arnold could see how attracted Helga was to him. 

"Bonjour," said Helga in a surprisingly seductive voice, and put out her hand. 

"Bonjour," he smiled and kissed her hand, "Madamoiselle." 

"Ah, François, this is Helga," said Cecile. "She'z Arnold's friend." 

"Has anyone ever told you that you have ze prettiest eyes?" His eyes twinkled. 

Helga shook her head with her cheeks flushed and her face aglow. 

"Well, it's nice meeting you," interjected Arnold, "but Helga and I were just about to go." 

"You know what would be fun…" began Cecile, "François and I can show ze two of you Arnold." She held Arnold's arm. 

"Yeah, that _would_ be nice," smiled Helga who was holding hands with François. 

Cecile worked her charm with Arnold, and he caved in when she kissed his cheek.

**A/N:** French Lesson!**  
**(1) Shopping   
(2) It's magnificent. You're beautiful.   
(3) Are you sure?   
(4) Yes. I want to go shopping.   
(5) How are you?   
(6) Very good, and you?   
(7) You know, I don't see pretty girls very often like the two of you.   
(8) Please, sit down. 

(9) So how pretty do you think we are?   
(10) Prettier than the Mona Lisa…Prettier than any girl in the United States, that's for sure.   
(11) Oh, you're an American?…We think American boys are amazing.   
(12) Jerk  
(13) I knew American boys always thought about sex, but I never knew they were so upfront about it. 


	5. La Boum

**A/N:** Sorry for the long delay. It's been hecktic. Please r/r! 

**Summary:** Helga and Arnold get in touch with their feelings. They are still caught within their own little fantasies and miss what is right in front of them. 

Chapter Five: La Boum 

~I love Paris in the spring time  
I love Paris in the fall  
I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles  
I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles  
  
I love Paris every moment  
Every moment of the year  
I loveParis, why oh why do I love Paris  
Because my love is here~

François and Helga were like two inseperatable magnets. She hung on his every word, and he was so flashy and devanaire. But you had to admit…he was one gorgeous french guy. Arnold despised him. He couldn't stand him, in fact. Just the way he talked to Helga, and the way they did everything together made him furious. 

Although, Cecile also hung on Arnold. He should feel the same way. In fact, he _did_ get butterflies in his stomach when she was near him. How she whispered into his ear, and the way she put her hand in his pocket. Deep inside, he knew that he felt something for Helga. 

All four of them had spent the last few days together. So far, Cecile and François had taken them to the Notre Dame, the modern at museum, and shopping. Yes, even _more_ shopping. Helga had bought the prettiest clothes, and Cecile had picked out nice shoes for Arnold. 

"Let's go to Versailles," said Cecile, "it's the best site in France!" 

"How'll we get there? Isn't it kind of far?" Helga wondered aloud. 

(1)"Nonsense. François will drive us. Tomorrow morning, d'accord? Vars sept heures et demie." 

"Où?" 

"Devant l'hôtel," she said promptly. 

"D'accord," said Arnold. Right now it was five in the afternoon. 

"Since we have so much time right now," said François, glancing at his watch, "let's go watch a movie. I will pay!" 

"Sounds good to me," said Helga. She quickly held his hand. 

(2)"Moi aussi!" smiled Cecile. 

"Et moi," murmured Arnold. "Which movie?" 

"Ze best movie we have to offer in France! The old cinema is showing _La Boum_." He grinned. 

Arnold and Helga have heard of the movie _La Boum_ in French class very often. It was supposed to be the movie all French people loved and watched over and over again. Every year it would be the number one movie shown on TV and it was all the rage. Full of "typical" things "everyone" goes through. 

***

They walked into the old movie theater, stepping on the plush maroon carpet. It was very big with 10 different screens. There were green drapes on the windows, and a long line in front of the concession stand. 

"Why don't you cheries go find seats while Arnold and I buy some food to eat?" François suggested. 

"Okay," said Cecile and Helga. The two of them walked to screen #3, neither talking to each other. Though they've gotten a bit warmer towards each other, they still had a bit of a dispute between them. 

Arnold and François stood in line. None of them even bothered to open their mouth. "So," Arnold finally mumbled as they took a step forward in line. 

"Oui?" 

"If you don't mind me asking – how old are you?" 

"Twenty-three." He said it without even looking at him. His head still up and looking out to the front of the line. He wasn't so much taller than Arnold. Only about 2 inches. 

"I see." 

"Oui." He simply said. His eyes were so distant. "And you?" 

"I'm eighteen. So is Helga, if you didn't realize." Said Arnold. 

"In fact I did realize. Cecile is nineteen, and I guessed that you et Helga would be around ze same age." 

Arnold simply nodded and arrived to the front of the line. 

(3)"Je voudrais un maîs éclaté moyen, et deux cocas," he said. 

"Donnez-moi un grande maîs éclaté moyen, et un coca." He grinned. "Deux pailles aussi." 

The two of them walked to the other table with all the condiments. As Arnold salted the popcorn, he cleared his throat, "so you really like Helga?" 

"Yes, I guess I do," he stated, taking a handful of napkins. "I like her as much as tu aimes Cecile." Arnold nodded, _so in other words, you don't know?_ "Why?" 

"Because I'm just – curious." 

"I do not see why you are so curious. But I guess it's common among dumb blonds." He walked away and hit his shoulder against Arnold's as he passed by him. 

Just as the two of them walked in, the lights dimmed. They were guided to their seats by the squeals of Helga and Cecile. Arnold sat in between Cecile and Helga, and Francois sat on the other side of Helga. 

_La Boum_ was certainly a different movie. Full of girls with raging teenage hormones, parties (hence the name "La Boum"), and problems that everyone can relate to. The father was cheating on the mother…the main character was madly in love with a boy she met at a _boum_ and whenever they shared a "special" moment, the same song ("Dreams Are My Reality") would play over and over again. You know, the _usual_ things. 

During a particular part when the mother was destroying the father's mistress's store, Arnold glanced at Helga to see her tongue-tied with François. Arnold cleared his throat, but it didn't help. He had to do something to stop it. He saw that she had a bag of popcorn on her lap. He glanced over at Cecile who was quite stuck to the movie, and slightly moved his elbow and _accidentally_ tipped over her popcorn. 

Suddenly she stopped that kiss and slightly gasped, "Oh no." 

"Aw, man," Arnold groaned, "that sucks." 

Helga irritatedly wiped off the excess popcorn off her legs and sighed, and continued watching the movie. Arnold felt like he was one of those nosey parents that would on purposely go in the living room to watch their "favorite show" just to make sure you and your date weren't doing anything bad. 

As Arnold watched the rest of the movie, he had a very satisfied look on his face and knew that François was pissed off. 

Muahahahaha. 

Before they knew it, the lights turned back on. Arnold stretched out his arms and yawned. "Wow, that was a good movie, wasn't it?" 

"Yes, it was…but it could've been a lot better if there were a bit less distractions," François mumbled grumpily. 

They walked out of the movie theater. Arnold and Helga hitched a ride in a taxi, and she took a long time to say a simple "bye" to François. Arnold couldn't seem to get Cecile off his back. 

"Oh, ma cherie," François murmured, "I will miss you until demain." 

"Me too," said Helga. 

"Arnold," Cecile cooed, wrapping her arms around him. "Have a nice night."

"You too," he mumbled. And as he let go of her, she quickly leaned in and gave him a peck on his lips. He blushed furiously, and Helga must've seen because she was suddenly very eager to get Arnold in the taxi. 

"Come on Arnold. We have to get back. It's getting late." 

"Okay, okay…" he almost didn't want to leave Cecile anymore. 

She pulled him into the taxi and told the driver to take them back to the hotel quickly. In the background, Cecile was waving and François waved too. 

"How'd you like the movie, Football head?" Helga murmured. She was slumped down in her seat, her legs spread out and arms folded across her chest. 

"It was interesting. I can see why it's a classic in France." 

"I think it was stupid that she kissed her dad. I mean, gag me!" 

Arnold laughed. It was so rich and silky. Yes, even a guy's voice could be silky. Helga loved his laugh. 

They got back to the hotel and ate in the lobby restaurant. Both of them kind of had a race with each other, seeing who could finish the fastest. Yeah, it was stupid but they couldn't help it. It just started with the food in front of them, and then as they ate, they watched each other. Slowly, they both got so into it they were inhaling their food. 

"This is crazy," Helga laughed. "I finished my dinner in five minutes." 

Arnold burped loudly and patted his stomach. "This is the _real_ way to eat dinner. Just the way the pioneers have eaten." 

"Oh please," she groaned. 

After paying the bill, the two of them went back up to their room and decided to chill out. The Paris city lights were beautiful. Arnold was standing out on the balcony just aweing at the sight. Helga was inside wrapped in blankets reading her book. Even though Arnold told her what happened, she still wanted to read it. 

_'Jean-Claude,' sighed Bridgette. 'will you love me forever?'   
'Oui, ma cherie. Forever and a day. You are the only one for me.' He kissed her lips and hugged her tightly. This was the woman who cut her hair and dressed as a man to save him from the jail. Little did he know that she was so devoted to him. But he still questioned his love for her.  
As far as Bridgette was concerned, she would love him forever and ever. She wouldn't care what would happen as long as she'd be in his arms tonight. _

There was a draft from the balcony, and Helga shivered. Even in the summer, the night was cold. _Just one more paragraph_, she thought. She read on in her book. 

_The next morning, Bridgette woke up extra early. She saw Jean-Claude still sound asleep and did not have the heart to disturb him. She put on a robe and walked out to the front yard, in the beautiful garden with assorted flowers. There was a trotting sound coming closer. Before her eyes, a large horse stopped in front of her. On it, was a tall black-haired French man. He got off his horse and stood in front of her. He wasn't the most handsome in the world. His nose was a little crooked, and his face had deep scars. Though, there was a quirky charm to him.   
'Miss,' he pleaded, 'some water, please?'   
Bridgette didn't do much but nod and quickly go into the kitchen and bring out a canteen of water. 'Here…you may keep the canteen.'   
'Thank you…I am on my way back into town from the country side.' _

Slowly, Helga fell asleep. The book still in her hands, and the light still on her face. 

Arnold walked in from the balcony and saw her sleeping with the book on her chest. _How pitiful_, he thought. _Yet charming…_He took her book out of her hands and put it on the nightstand. He pulled up her covers and paused to kiss her forehead and turned off her light. 

***

The weather began to cool a little and Helga and Arnold were waiting outside the hotel. Helga and Arnold were walking around in circles mindlessly. Bored out of their minds just to wait for Francois and Cecile to come pick them up to go to Versailles. 

Arnold bumped into her shoulder on purposely. "Oops, sorry Madame," he chuckled. 

She walked into his shoulder and scoffed. "Watch where you're going, Sir." 

"Ugh," she scoffed, putting out her hand in his face. 

"Ugh!" he imitated. 

She punched his arm. "Damn," he cursed, "chill Jet Li…" and rubbed his arm. 

Suddenly there was a loud honk. They turned quickly and got into the car with Cecile and Francois motioning for them to come in. Helga sat in the front with Francois and Cecile sat in the back seat with Arnold. 

They drove and drove and drove to the Palace of Versailles. It was a huge place with gold gates and the garden was so unbelievably breath-taking. Every day, it seemed, they would be trimmed a little. It was just beautiful. 

Helga and Arnold were so in awe with everything. Cecile and Francois were their own little tour guides, telling them about all the different rooms, guiding them through the palace. It was a really long history lesson. And to tell the truth, Helga and Arnold didn't really pay attention to what they had to say. It was just too amazing. 

Suddenly Helga thought about something really stupid. She imagined herself as Marie Antoinette and Arnold as Louis XVII. (Though Versailles was built by Louis XIV, Louis XVII lived there too). It just hit her head. 

"Ah, Marie," Louis smiled, and kissed her hand. "I'm so pleased we're here together. This is a perfect life, non?" 

"Yes it is," she cooed and then sighed. "I love you." Their fingers intertwined with each other. 

"Moi aussi, ma cherie…" they leaned into each other for a kiss. 

"Hey Helga! Y'awake in there?" Arnold said waving his hand in front of her eyes. 

She shook her head and slightly chuckled. "Yeah, barely." 

"We're going out to the garden. Come on!" He took her hand and they caught up with Francois and Cecile. As they were squeezing through the crowd, Arnold saw the sour look on Helga's face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." 

"Are you bummed because I killed your fantasy?" 

"How would you know?" 

"I _know_ you Helga. I've _known_ you since preschool. I know you like the back of my hand." 

She shook her head. "I hate you, Football Head." 

"I know, I know. And I hate you too, Helga." He laughed. 

They walked out to the huge garden by themselves as the wind hit their faces. It was so fresh outside, and not only that but the garden was huge. Practically the size of the whole palace. The garden was tended nicely, everything was cut at exact angles. It was very overwhelming.

"Wow," Helga said under her breath, he hand on her chest. "This is gorgeous." 

"Yeah. It is, isn't it?" He put his hands on his hips and just gazed at the garden and shook his head slightly. "Just puts me in awe." 

"Arnold! Helga! Come over here!" Cecile shouted a few yards away. 

Arnold and Helga followed her voice and met up with Francois and Cecile again. 

"This es so beautiful, non?" Cecile cooed, holding Arnold's hand. "Look at ze sky. It's so blue and clear. C'est a typical day in France." 

Francois had his arm around Helga's waist and he pointed out the historical aspects of the garden as she pretended to listen. All she could really think about was Arnold. It just felt like steak knives cutting into her back when Arnold was with Cecile. It was so pain-strickening. She was just happy they were able to sleep in the same room every night. _Beat that, Cecile._

***

"Why oh why do I love Paris?" Helga hummed. 

"Because my love is here!" Arnold finished dramatically. He had just came out from the bathroom and in his blue pajamas. It was so adorable because his pajamas were too big for him and it made him look as if he were 9. "Helga, all you ever do in the hotel room is read that book," he patronized. 

Helga turned a page of her book and shrugged. "So?" 

"So? You're an abomination! Spending Paris reading silly love books about French people." He dumped his day clothes in a drawer and opened the balcony doors. "I mean look at it out there! It's gorgeous! We should be out there, Helga. We should go out to Paris in the night!" 

"One little problem…"

"What's that?" 

"We're already in our pajamas, and I'm already cozy in bed." 

Arnold groaned. "Oh you women. Picky, picky, picky." He locked the balcony door and grumbled as he got into his bed. He let out a deep breath and began to sing softly, (4) "Des yeux qui font baisser les miens, Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche." He paused. "Voila le portrait sans retouches de l'homme auquel j'appartiens. Quand il me prend dans ses bras il me parle tout bas, je vois la vie en rose.

"Il me dit des mots d'amour, des mots de tous les jours, et ca me fait quelque chose." 

"That's a sweet song, Arnold," said Helga. "What's it called?" 

"La Vie En Rose." 

"Life in Pink…lovely." She smiled at him. "You sing quite well, you know." 

He looked over to her with his hands behind his head and grinned. "Thanks." 

Suddenly the phone rang. Arnold jumped and picked it up. "Hello? Oh, Cecile! Oui…oui… d'accord. Are you sure? Let me ask." He put his hand over the receiver and turned to Helga. "Hey, Helga, how would you like to go to watch a play with Francois and Cecile Friday night? With dinner at some fancy restaurant?" he asked eagerly. 

"Whoa, that'd be awesome!" She sat up straight in her bed. "Tell her yes! But, I have nothing to wear. And Friday night is tomorrow night." 

Arnold told Cecile over the phone. "No problem. She says she'll take you out shopping tomorrow." 

"Okay!" Helga's face brightened. 

With that, Arnold hung up with Cecile. "Wow, dinner and a play. Hm, I guess I'll need a tux or something too." 

_He looked at her with a soft smile. 'What is your name, my lady?' _

_'Bridgette. And yours?' _

_'Yves. Yves Bonart. And again I would like to thank you for this water.' He took her hand and kissed it. 'I hope we will meet again.' Then he trotted away into town. _

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed it. Please R/R! 

Translations: 

1. -…Around 7:30   
    - Where?   
    - In front of the hotel. 

2. – Me too!   
    - and me. 

3. – I'd like one popcorn and two cokes.   
    -  Give me a large popcorn and one coke. With two straws. 

4. – (rough translation) Eyes which cause a drop in mine, a laughter which is lost on its mouth; the portrait without final improvements of the man to which I belong. When it takes to me in its arms it speaks to me low, I see the life pink. It tells me words of love, words of tous.les.jours, and it does something to me 


	6. That Tingly Feeling

A/N: Chapter Six. Enjoy and review! 

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, I've never put these on my stories because I forget. Well, for the record, I do _not_ own Hey Arnold! I never have, and I probably never will. I just use the gang in my own little stories =). 

Chapter Six: That Tingly Feeling 

_A gentleman is a patient wolf. _

_"I'm very impressed."   
"She's a friend, just a friend."   
"Since when are women just your friends?"   
"Since I met her."   
-French Kiss_

That morning, Cecile took Arnold and Helga out to shop. François was out doing something, Cecile could not say. Not like Arnold really cared, but Helga seemed to be quite disappointed when she heard the news. Not that it really _mattered_. 

Cecile took them into a big mall. There were two stores in there right next to each other made just for formal wear. One was a tuxedo shop and the other was a dress shop. 

"Arnold, in ze tuxedo shop, ask for Alix. He is my uncle. Tell him that I sent you. Then he will help you." She grinned. "And Helga, you and I will see ze dresses." 

Arnold walked into the tux shop, and Helga and Cecile went into the dress shop. It was almost like walking into a Bridal shop. The dresses were displayed all nicely on manicans and there were women in frilly dresses staring at themselves in the mirror. 

(1)"Beinvenue!" greeted a lady in a black miniskirt and white blouse. "Je m'appelle Audrey. Vous aiment de l'aide?" 

(2)"Aucun pas en ce moment. Nous regardons autour," said Cecile.  

Helga noticed an open doorway between the two formal wear shops. She could see a lot of men, as they could see her. The cash register was smack in the middle. 

There was a beeping sound coming from Cecile's pants. She took out her cell phone and pressed a button. "Ooh la la, Helga, I must go for a little while! I forgot the time. I promised ma mere I would buy something. I will see vous later!"

"But how am I…" but before Helga could finish the sentence, Cecile was long gone. _…going to get out?_ "Ah, whatever." 

She began to browse the gowns neatly displayed and the shoes on the rack. 

(3)"Quel genre de robe recherchez-vous?" another woman in a long black skirt and white blouse asked curtiously.

(4)"Mm, peut-être quelque chose de formel pour un jeu et dîner," said Helga, "n'importe quelle couleur est très bien." 

(5)"Je me pense ai des quelques bons pour vous!" she said excitedly. She hurried around and pulled out several dresses for Helga and added that because of Helga's slimness, she would look marvelous in these chosen dresses. Then she stuffed her in a dressing room with one of the dresses. 

It was long, black, and strapless with a high slit up to the middle of her thigh. Made her look like a stick. More of a stick than she already was. Reluctantly, she walked out of the dressing room and opened her arms. 

(6)"C'est magnifique!" the saleslady said. 

(7)Helga shook her head. "Ce n'est pas trop bon." 

Arnold was on the other side being sized for a suit. He turned around and caught glimpse of Helga in that black dress. _Wow, not bad._ Though he felt slightly embarassed looking at her. He felt as if she were the bride and he were the groom and he got some bad luck by looking at her before the wedding. So he turned around and didn't give it a second thought. 

The lady gave her a different dress. Actually five different dresses and she did not seem very pleasant in any of them. One made her butt look too big, another made her seem like a mushroom and another made her look like a drag queen (don't even ask). 

Finally, one of the last dresses she tried on was a midnight blue. The top was almost like a corset, stringed together on the back with a silk shawl. The bottom flowed like a waterfall with a flair and was very sleek. She fell in love with it. 

"Ooh la la," awed the lady. "This is magnificent! Now we must get you the right shoes." 

Helga tried on many different shoes which made her feet hurt like hell. Then there was one high heel that was black velvet with a jewel on the top. They fit comfortably. 

All together, her ensemble was perfect. She looked like a goddess. 

"I'll take it," she said excitedly. She took it off and put on her regular clothes. The lady wrapped it up and took her to the register. "How much is it in american dollars?" 

"Hm, c'est 200." 

"How about just for rental?" 

"C'est 100." Helga nearly choked and gave her a credit card. She walked out with the dress and shoes. 

Outside she saw Arnold sitting solemnly on a bench with a bag next to him. 

"Damn, Arnold, you're fast!" said Helga. 

He looked at his watch. "You've been in there for two hours! I've been sitting here for one!" he complained. 

"Well, _sorry_," She replied, "your _majesty._" She bowed deeply. 

"Damn straight." He laughed, "Where's Cecile?" 

"Off doing something for her mom. I think we should get a cab home."

***

"Oh Ma Cherie," he said under his breath, "I love you…" 

"François, we have been apart for so long. I've missed you," she wailed softly. 

"I know. But I'm doing this for you, Cherie, for you." He nuzzled her neck. 

"Let's spend tonight together. Please?" 

"I can't. You know I can't…I'm getting our ticket to America." He kissed her. 

"I wish we could…" 

"We have right now." 

***

Cecile called later on telling them to meet her and François in front of the restaurant. Helga almost spent the remainder of the day in the bathroom getting herself ready for the night. 

Arnold put on deodarant and a white undershirt and a white dress shirt. He put on his black suit and wrapped a diagonal striped tie around his neck. He felt almost smothered in the suit and looked at himself in the mirror. Not bad. He gelled his hair and combed it nicely. Split in the middle, making it untamed. 

It was almost time. As he buttoned his suit he knocked on the bathroom door. "Come on, Helga! You've been in there forever! We need to go!" 

"In a minute!" she snapped back. 

She looked at herself in the mirror. She had to admit, she was pretty well put together considering she had no help what-so-ever from anyone else. 

"Come _on_!" he growled. 

"Coming! Coming!" she opened the door and walked out. 

Arnold gawked at her and stopped tying his tie. Her hair was put up with chopsticks, her eyes were outlined magnificently with black, and her lips were colored champagne. She glowed. She was beautiful. That dress did amazing things to her body and fit her perfectly. She was even more beautiful than she was without makeup. It was unbelievable. He closed his mouth and gulped. 

"What? Is there something on my face?" she stared at him blankly and touched her face with her hand. 

"No, no…" he stepped closer to her. "You look…astounding. Breathtaking. Gorgeous." 

"Thanks," she felt her cheeks heat up. "I hope everything goes well tonight." 

She sighed and shook her head to see Arnold's distorted tie so she walked up to help him tie it properly. She was able to make it nice and straight and patted his chest and smiled with her glossy lips. "Much better. Now you look like a million bucks." 

"Not a billion?" 

"Nah, well, you look like 5 million." 

Arnold took her hand and put the back of her hand up to his lips. "Merci beaucoup, Madamoiselle." He winked. 

Helga blushed as he opened the door for her and they left the room. Arnold watched her every move until they entered the elevator, making sure she didn't trip or ruin an aspect of her dress or body. He guided her through doors lightly touching the small of her back. 

She melted as he touched her…and his fingers quivered as he touched her. 

"Taxi!" Arnold called out, waving his hand. 

The taxi pulled up in front of Helga and Arnold. The two of them got in and were on their way to the restaurant. Helga shivered in the taxi. "Are you cold, Helga?" Arnold asked innocently. 

Helga pulled her shawl closer around her body. "Nah." 

They arrived at the restaurant. Helga and Arnold walked out in the glamorous clothes as if they were movie stars. There was a man in the front of the restaurant who led Arnold and Helga into the dining areas. That was when Cecile and François saw them. 

Cecile was wearing a blue dress and François was wearing something you'd see in an Armani commercial. 

"Wow! Helga! Arnold! Ze two of you look wonderful!" Cecile exclaimed, clasping her hands together. She and Helga exchanged kisses on the cheek. 

"I agree. Helga is quite enchanting," said François as he kissed her cheek. Funny, she didn't get a slight tingle in her body the way she did when Arnold kissed her hand. 

"And Cecile, you look…nice." Arnold smiled and kissed her cheek. She smelled nice, like candy. 

They all sat down around the intimate round table. It was covered with a dark purple cloth, and had two candles on the top. There were lots of different silverware for each person as well. 

All the four of them was small-talk about stupid things. Actually, there wasn't really a good conversation going on but rather a series of small conversations. Like "So, what do you think of Nicole Kidman?" 

"Oh, she's pretty." 

"Yeah…" and that would be it. 

With all their talking, the food came. It was actually Broccoli soup. Helga and Arnold glanced at each other, confused about which spoon they should use. They saw Cecile and François use the one with the big circle and followed along. 

You couldn't blame them, after all. 

There were three main dishes. One was a roasted duck, the second was escargots, and the third was  fish. Oh, and there was a side dish of cheese, or shall you say _le fromage_. Helga and Arnold did not touch the snails at all. They watched as Cecile and François happily chomped them down,  the two of them were a bit too freaked out to try. 

"Oh, Helga, why don't you try it? It eez good!" François offered, pointing at the snails with his fork. 

"Oui, you too, Arnold!" said Cecile. "S'il tu plait?" She pouted slightly. 

Arnold took his fork and put a snail on his plate, and so did Helga. They had to use one of those really small forks to get the sail out of the shell. After a few deep breaths, Arnold put it in his mouth and chewed, and chewed. It was chewy. Helga seemed to have fun chewing it too.   
Eventually Arnold and Helga swallowed. "Mm, actually I like it!" Arnold smacked his lips. 

Helga didn't like it, so she just nodded. "Yeeah. It's…indescribable." 

"Have some more!" François insisted, putting more on her plate. 

"…Magnifique," she murmered with a smile on her face. 

During the middle, they were able to have more lively conversations. Suddenly François's pants buzzed. He looked down and gulped. "Ah, excusez-moi, mes amis. I will be right back." He jumped out of his seat and walked away. 

Then Arnold felt like going to the bathroom. It must've been because of the last three glasses of sparkling cider he drank. "Moi aussi, I will be right back," he hurriedly said, rushing to the bathroom. 

To his luck, there was no line for the bathroom. It was a big bathroom with black and white tiles and with lots of stalls and, well, urinals. He did his thing, and wondered where the girls' bathroom was. He didn't see it near the men's. Oh well. 

He washed his hands, and got out and heard some muffled sounds. Curiously he walked down the hall through the payphones where the sounds got a little louder. He saw a janitorial door opened slightly, the light was on. Arnold decided to peek in and opened the door a little wider. 

A red head being ravishly kissed by a tall French man. Who looked extremely familiar. _Oh God,_ Arnold thought. _Is that…François?_ It was. He was practically sucking her whole face in his mouth. 

"Oh François…I'm sorry, I just couldn't wait without you any longer. Not after this afternoon," she murmered. 

"Cherie, je t'aime. I'm with the girl tonight. I'm going to make it so we'll get our trip to America. Really. I promise you. We can easily be US citizens," he grumbled. 

Arnold's eyes widened. _Whoa…Helga's going to be crushed._ He should tell her. But then again, what if she didn't believe him? What if she did? Then that'd be very good and beneficial towards her. Though, when did he have the time to tell her? 

Arnold walked back to the table and sat down quietly. 

"You look pale, Arnold," Helga commented. "Are you okay?" 

Arnold nodded. "I'll be fine. How about you?" 

Helga raised her left eyebrow, "I'm…fine…thanks." 

François then sat back down at the table also. "Thank you three for waiting." He flashed his million dollar devinare smile. Arnold's mouth went dry and he sunk down in his chair.

He knew it. He knew François was up to no good. I mean, after all, he was 21, had that mischeivous look on his face, and had that evil smirk plastered on his face. 

In the end, the four of them had to quickly scarf down their cheesecake or else they'd be late for the play. 

Arnold, François, Helga, and Cecile got situated in their box seats in the balcony. The arrangement was François, Helga, Arnold, Cecile. Arnold liked to sit next to Helga (if you haven't noticed before) so that he could not only spy on her and François, but glance over at her every once in a while and see her pretty face. 

Corny, yes. But Arnold didn't seem to care. 

Helga used her little binoculars to see the stage. "Wow, this is fantastic with these binoculars." (a/n: Yeah, at an opera they'd be Opera Glasses…but here, I'm just calling them binoculars.) 

"The best for you, my dear." François grinned. 

_That bastard sure can play well,_ Arnold thought. 

(8)"Quatre voudriez-vous du vin rouge?" the usher asked. 

"Oui," said François. "Et toi?" he asked Arnold. 

"I don't think so…" 

"Oh come on, Arnold! Dis is France! Everyone drinks wine," he said joyfully. 

"Okay, one glass," he mumbled. 

"Deux vin," François told the usher. He gave Arnold and François each a glass of wine and left the bottle. 

The lights dimmed, and the curtains opened. The stage lights brightly shone on the stage, and out came a woman who began to dance. Okay, so Cecile lied to Arnold. They actually went to go see a ballet. Not so bad, Arnold could see that there was something going on between this woman dancing and the guy dancing. Or is that guy actually a really masculine woman? 

After a couple of hours, the lights were bright again, and the stage curtains closed. Arnold stretched out his arms. _Ah, halftime. Er, intermission…_

Helga began to groan slightly. 

"Are you okay, Helga?" Arnold wondered. 

Helga shook her head. "eeugh, I feel like crap. I think it was something I ate," she stuck out her tongue in disgust. 

"Oh no!" Cecile squealed. "What could it have been?" 

"Maybe that escargot didn't agree with your stomach," said Arnold, and put his hand on her back. "I think we should get you back to the hotel." 

"I agree," said François. "In fact, I will take you." 

"No, that's okay, François," said Arnold defensively. "I mean, I think I should be the one taking her home. I wouldn't want you to miss the second half of the ballet." 

François began to help Helga up from her seat. "No, no. I insist, Arnold. _You_ watch the ballet. Helga is safe in my hands. Really. Besides, I have watched this ballet ten times before. You enjoy yourself with Cecile, and I'll be with Helga." 

With that, he walked away. 

Arnold cursed in his mind and finished his glass of wine and poured some more wine in the glass. 

***

François held Helga's hand and walked with her up to her room. They stopped in front of the door. 

"Are you feeling better Helga?" François asked with consideration. His hair fell in front of his face. 

She nodded. "A little. Thanks for bringing me back." She smiled softly at him. 

"It was no problem." There was a slight twinkle in his eye. Suddenly he leaned in and kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back. He kissed her then with more intensity and more demand. She was stuck in between his body and the door. 

"François," she uttered. He kissed down her neck. 

"Let me come in," he grumbled under his breath. 

"No, I can't…" 

"Please?" 

"I can't. It's not right…" She managed to push him off. 

He stood back and pulled his hands through his dark hair. "You're right. But I have to tell you that I have loved our time together." 

"Well, I have too," she said, unaware what was going to happen. 

"You can say that I have fallen madly in love with you." He smiled and touched her hair. 

Helga slightly chuckled in disbelief. "You're not serious, are you?" 

"I am. I am very serious, Cherie. Do you not love me too?" 

"I do…"

"That is good because I am so serious that I would want you to marry me." He put his hand in his pocket and took out a tiny box. 

Helga gawked. "No…" 

"Yes. Say yes, Helga…" he kissed her ear. She could feel his breath on her neck and his lips tickling her skin. He showed her the ring. It had no diamond, but it was nice. 

"But what about school?" 

"I can support us while you're in school. Please. I've never once met any woman quite like you. You are one in a million…you and I were meant for each other. It was fate, cherie…" 

"Um, François, I'm actually still feeling quite sick. I'll get back to you later…d'accord?" she murmered shyly. 

"Okay." He leaned in for one more kiss. "Good night." He walked away. 

Helga sighed and went into her room and plopped onto the bed. 

_'Ah, Bridgette, we meet again!' said Yves. 'What brings you in town?'  
'I couldn't stop thinking,' said Bridgette, 'I know it's bad…'  
'Bad? Non. Women with minds are wonderful. They bring life into this world…it gives them life.' He grinned and bit into an apple. 'what were you thinking of?'  
'…You.' _

**A/N:** Well, I hope you liked this. I guess there's going to be one more chapter. Now here's your french lesson for today!: 

(1) Welcome! My name is Audrey, would you like some help? 

(2) Not at the moment, we're first going to look around. 

(3) What kind of dress would you like? 

(4) Something formal for a play and dinner, and any color is fine. 

(5) I think I have some really good ones for you! 

(6) It's magnificent!

(7) No it's not. 

(8) Would the four of you like some red wine? 


	7. The Letter

A/N: Hey…this is chapter seven…_please_ read _and_ review. I don't know what happened, but there were so many people to read _and_ review this in the beginning…then the people stopped…I'm feeling so unloved. 

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hey Arnold! Paris, or…you know. 

Chapter Seven: The Letter 

Don't confuse being "soft" with seeing the other guy's point of view.  
Assumptions are the termites of relationships.   
  


***

_'Where were you last night?' Jean-Claude inquired suspiciously.   
'Nowhere. Nowhere of importance,' Bridgette replied cooly.   
'Tell me,' he grabbed her arm, 'I _ know_ you went somewhere. I checked. You hid your place in bed with pillows!' _

_She looked away. _

_'Don't try to hide it, you damn woman.' He roared. _

_She did not answer. _

_'I know where you were,' he cursed with the smell of alcohol in his breath. 'you were with that bâtard Yves…'  
'I don't know what you are talking about, Jean-Claude. It would be good if you would forget about something that never happened.'   
He kept his face straight and let go of her arm. 'Fine, fine. But know this…' he pointed his index finger at her. 'if I catch you out ever again…' he grit his teeth and walked away. _

Helga didn't take the ring. 

She layed in her bed, staring up into the ceiling. It was midnight and Arnold wasn't back yet. Horns were honking, cats wear meowing, dogs were barking. Clocks were ticking, birds were singing, and footsteps echoed in the empty corridors…Strange how she could suddenly hear all these weird sounds. 

_What the hell am I supposed to do? Marry François? Yeah, sure, he's nice, but…_she sighed._ I'm only 18, damnit. Only 18. What if he treats me like a slave like all those other foreign men? Huh? What if he expects me to stay at home all day? Helga G. Pataki will NOT be someone's housemaid. Geez. But then, goodness, his eyes. Whenever I look into those eyes…it's just…and that hair, ugh. It is so sexy…and that football head. _

Her eyes widened. 

_Er, football head? François has no football head. Wait, maybe I wasn't thinking about François but…Arnold. _She wanted to scream. _Stupid football head. He's ruining my dream. But, well, it would be so much better to marry Arnold than François. He's smart, talented, and in many ways, sweeter than François. Who cares if she doesn't marry a French man? Arnold can speak French…_

Then she heard a key in the lock, the door turned. Quickly she shut her eyes. 

"I think Helga's sleeping," Arnold whispered, "We'll have to try to be quiet." 

Helga kept her eyes shut. _What on earth is he doing? _She heard a ferocious giggling accompaning Arnold's voice. 

The only thing she could hear was Arnold and some other footsteps and then the footsteps stopped. "Oh, Arnold," murmered a familiar voice following a giggle. 

Helga froze and made fists with her hands. Arnold had brought someone in their room. Not just anyone, but Cecile. What they were doing, she did not want to know, but she had a feeling she would find out soon. She listened more carefully and could hear kissing sounds and a zipper. 

_Helga, just go to sleep. Just go to sleep Helga…_she pleaded inside her mind. _If you don't hear or see it, it's like it's not even happening. You won't get hurt. Just go to sleep._

Tears began to leak from her eyes. _Just go to sleep…Just go to…sleep…_

***

The next morning was dark, and clouds hung in the sky. The weather report told everyone to get ready for rain, and to dress warm since the high was only supposed to be 50º. They should expect this weather for the rest of the week. 

Helga woke up with dark bags under her bloodshot eyes. Yeah, she was able to fall asleep, but her eyes were still tearing up. 

Arnold was wearing his pajamas and sat in a chair facing the balcony and the gloomy Paris horizon. His shoulders were tense, and his hair was a mess. There were darker circles under his eyes than Helga. He just sat there staring out into the darkness of Paris. 

Last night was such a boggle to him. He must have had one too many bottles of wine. (That's right, _bottles.)_ And now his head was throbbing like crazy. Thankfully Helga was asleep last night so that she couldn't see that he brought Cecile into the room. She would kill him…even though it wasn't such a big deal. Nothing really happened.

_Just don't bring up the subject,_ Arnold thought. His head hurt like crazy, and he was little dizzy. 

Helga sat up on her bed and got up without a sound. 

Arnold turned around and smiled, "G'morning Helga." 

Helga looked at him coldly and sneared. "Don't you ever, _ever_ talk to me again, asshole." She walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. 

_She knows…_

Arnold groaned and jumped out of his chair and knocked on the bathroom door. "C'mon Helga. Why are you making such a big deal about this? Huh? All I did was take Cecile in. What's the deal?" He tried to appease her. 

No answer. 

"You know you're being stupid, Helga. You're acting like an idiot." 

She opened the door. "_I'm _an idiot? You're the idiot for sleeping with Cecile!" 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Helga," Arnold growled. 

She pointed her index finger at him, and her eyes burned with fire. "You broke two things, Arnold! You broke a rule we made together…we agreed on it, Arnold! You said you wouldn't bring anyone else in here!" 

"I…" 

"And while François was trying to get inside to sleep with me, I pushed him out! I DID MY PART AND DIDN'T BRING HIM IN! And look. Look what you _did_! You bring in someone. Not just anyone but _CECILE_!" she wailed, "You brought her in behind my back, Arnold. When I was sick. You took advantage of that!" 

"I just had a little too much to drink. But we…" 

"Shut up, Arnold. Just shut up!" She couldn't keep control of her emotions, and tears ran down her cheeks. 

"You're not even listening to me, Helga!" Arnold cursed. His head throbbed. 

"I don't have to, Arnold. You know, through this whole time I thought we were going to be something more. We were such great friends, Arnold. But you just ruined everything. You ruined it all." 

"I wasn't the one who first kissed a guy I didn't know before this summer. I wasn't the one who cut you out and didn't give a second thought about what would happen between us_. I _didn't ruin it. _You_ did," he snapped. 

Helga couldn't stop the tears cascading down her face. "I _hate_ you Arnold. Really, I do. I can't stand to even look at you anymore." 

"Fine, then don't. I don't really give a crap. For all I care you can go run off with François. That damn bastard." 

"He's not a bastard Arnold. You are."

"Damnit, he's _cheating_ on you, Helga! I saw…he doesn't love you."

Helga looked away, "I don't believe you. He _loves _me, Arnold. More than anyone. You're a son of a bitch, and I hate you." She slammed the bathroom door in front of his face and Arnold began to hear her loud cries and sobs. 

Arnold's heart broke. That must've been the second thing he broke. He made Helga cry. He'd never made a girl cry before. Never. But Helga deserved it, didn't she? 

He threw the remote at the TV and flinged the chair on the ground and screamed. His hands were on his hips and he paced around the room with a sour look on his face. Angrily he changed into some jeans and a wrinkled shirt. Helga has been in the bathroom for 20 minutes. 

Arnold took his coat and wallet and walked out the door. 

Once Helga heard the door close, she was able to ease her cries. She was crouched up in the bathtub with her arms hugging her legs. With a last sniff, she got out of the bathroom and changed into some descent clothes. She stuffed more clothes into her bag, and some money. Another tear ran down her cheek. 

_Arnold, _she wrote and then put down the pen and thought for a second. Then continued to write. _  
 You and I both know that this is too hard to go on with. I thought, I really thought, that we could have worked out, you know? But with all this going on, I realized that we are not for each other. We can't even live with each other without biting each other's heads off. With that, I'm leaving. I'm going to stay with François and we're going to get married. You can go ahead and give the extra plane ticket to Cecile. I'm not going back with you. _

- _Helga Pataki _

This was probably one of the first times she didn't add her middle initial. 

She paused and thought for a moment then picked up the phone and dialed a number. 

"Allo?" grumbled a deep voice. 

"François?" Helga asked eagerly. 

"Mmh?" he grumbled again. "Ca va?" [how are you?]

"No…" she sniffed. 

"Pleurez-vous?" he wondered with a monotone. [are you crying?]

"Oui…" 

"Que s'est produit?" [what happened?]

"Je ne sais pas." [I don't know]

"Je vous recontrerai au café en quinze minutes," he grumbled. "D'accord?" [I'll meet you at the café in 15 minutes, okay?]

"D'accord…" she said diffidently and hung up the phone, then folded her note and put it on top of the nightstand. 

***

Arnold walked around aimlessly in the streets of Paris. His hands were in his pockets, and he stepped into muddles (mud puddles). His hair was a mess, and his stomach was yearning for some food. He sighed. 

_I can't believe I did that to Helga…I can't believe she doesn't believe me. I mean…_he sighed again. _Argh, my head hurts. _

_This is all Cecile's fault. Damnit, why'd she have to come in for water? Okay, so things were getting a little out of hand, but…_he growled. If he had to blame anyone for Helga hating him, he'd have to blame Cecile. Damn her and her pouty lips and her big eyes. Wait, he just described Helga. 

Cecile has no pouty lips…no big darling eyes. She turned out to be a real bad person last night. He tried to get her out. He did, really. And, well, after he used his charms, she let herself out. 

Then it hit him: he didn't actually like Cecile. Sure, at first he was full of infatuation, but then it slowly pieced together. Through his time with Cecile, he'd realized that she wasn't the one for him, but instead the one for him was Helga. 

How could he have been so stupid? He slapped his forehead. All this time, he'd made Helga feel left out. They came as friends and ended up as foes. He had to make it up to her some way. 

***

François waited where he said he would. Outside of the café with a large hot chocolate. Helga saw his motorcycle leaning against the pillar. She gulped and walked up to him, her head was down. Gently, he patted her back and pulled her in for a hug. Not exactly how she anticipated he would react, but it was still nice. 

"Sit down," he offered. 

She sat down next to him, and he held her hand. 

"François," she stuttered, "I thought about what you asked me last night." 

"Oui?" his eyes grew in amusement. 

She drew in a deep breath and let it out, "I think that I'd like to get married." She grinned. 

François grinned and took out the ring from his pocket. "I knew you would say so, cherie." 

***

Arnold could only pray that Helga was still there. In his hands he had a large bouquet of roses and daisies. He pranced around the muddles and kicked the water around. He swung around the lamp posts and had an urge to sing out loud. He ran into the hotel lobby and rushed up to the room. 

He opened the door and his voice burst, "Helga!" there was silence. "…Helga?" 

He looked around the room. She wasn't around. He checked the bathroom. No, wasn't there. But then he realized that her body spray wasn't in the bathroom either. _No…couldn't be_. He looked at her empty bed and saw that her book was not on her pillow like usual. When he went up to the bed he shook his head, "This isn't happening…" 

His eyes caught glimpse of the note on the nightstand. Carefully he picked it up and read the note. He lost the feeling in his fingers, and the flowers crashed down to the floor. 

***

Helga felt good, she was riding on the back of François's motorcycle with her backpack full of her clothes. Yeah, this was how it was going to be. Her arms were around his waist, and she felt really close to him. Like they, well, not connected, but…she didn't quite know. 

She admired the gold ring on her left hand. His leather jacket felt nice with her bare skin. This is what her parents always told her not to do. _Never marry a man with a motorcycle._

_Never marry a man who you've known for the summer. _

_Never marry a man who has no job. _Does he have a job? She doesn't know. 

_Never marry a French man. _

This made her adrenaline rush, and her body tingle. This was it…but she did not know where she was heading. 

***

Arnold damn straight knew what was going on. This was all a joke. It had to be a joke…God, please let it be a joke. He knew that in five minutes Helga would burst in through the door shouting "Haha Football Head! I got you good!" and they would laugh together and kiss. 

Though he said that same exact thing thirty minutes ago.

He tugged on his hair and groaned. 

How could he have been so stupid, stupid, stupid, he wondered as he banged his head on the wall. Helga was so wonderful…his best friend ever since Gerald left. What did he do so wrong? 

He clenched the front of his shirt and gulped. It felt painful. So painful. Helga had treated him poorly for over half his life so far, and he had gotten used to it…but this was too painful. This was harsh – unbearable in fact. His fist slammed against the walls. 

But then again who ever said that Helga was the one for him? 

Well, then again, who ever said that she wasn't? 

Arnold sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands. How could he have been so stupid? So naïve? So…ugh. "Dude…" he groaned again. 

He looked at the flowers he bought. Crushed on the floor. Carefully he bent over and drew one out of the bouquet and inhaled the perfume scent. _The things I did for love,_ he thought. _To think that once I really did believe in this stuff. _He chuckled slightly. _So stupid…_he picked a petal off the flower. _This is for how I let love take over my life,_ he threw it on the ground and picked off another petal. _This is for becoming friends with Helga…_

Before he knew it he did not have any more petals to pluck off. He left the other flowers alone. He had to do something with himself. This was just getting too depressing. After every single petal he took off, he thought about Helga with Francois. They were not a good combination. _He_ was not a good combination by himself. 

Poor Helga. If she found out…she would be crushed. 

But Arnold didn't _care_ anymore, right? She made him forget about her…

_Aaah, everything's so confusing!_

***

_Yeah, that's right Arnold…you said it wasn't right. You said it couldn't happen…but look! I'm _here_ aren't I? Here in Francois's apartment. _

Helga stood up proud and stuck her nose up in the air. Smelled like mint. Reminded her of Arnold. He always ate mints when he was bored. _Arg,_she cursed in her head. _Stop it! Stop thinking about Arnold!!_

There were a few pairs of jeans on the floor, and white shirts. It was so untidy…unlike Arnold. _Argh, I said stop it!_

She smiled politely at Francois and nodded as he rambled on about something. She really wasn't listening. It's just that her being there was unbelievable. It was too much to take in all at once. 

"Helga, what is za problem? Hm?" Francois wondered as he put his hand on her waist. 

Helga sighed. "It's just, Arnold doesn't seem like the greatest guy in the world anymore. He's been really bad. And I just don't see myself with him." 

François nodded in understanding. "Ma cherie, do not worry about stupid Arnold. We'll get married and you'll never have to see him again. D'accord?" 

Helga nodded. "D'accord…" 

He kissed her lips and glanced at the clock. "Ooh la la! I must go." 

"Go? Where?" 

"Well, before you came I was planning to handle some, er, family business. So I will have to go now, cherie." 

"Can I come along?" She asked eagerly. 

"No. This is something I, um, must handle by myself." He nodded and took his leather jacket off the back of the chair. "I will see vous later?" 

"Yes. Of course." 

"For now, though, you'll have to stay out of ze room. I do not have a spare key, and I do not want you to feel confined in here while I go. So, it would be best if you'll just go out. Until I find you." 

"Oh…" she said. "Okay…so I'll just see you later?" 

"Oui. Oui." He led her out the door with her bag still in her hands. "Meet me here in ze apartment lobby. D'accord?" 

She nodded again. "Fantastic!" he smiled and closed the door. 

…was it just her, or did she just get pushed out? Helga G. Pataki does NOT take this crap from anyone. 

Then he suddenly opened the door again and kissed her deeply. "That should last you for the next couple of hours." He winked and closed the door again. 

Well, maybe it isn't all that much crap.

She sighed and walked down the hall and got in the elevator. Maybe she'll just find some place to read her book. That was always a good idea. And then she would see what would happen between Jean-Claude and Bridgette. _Brilliant Helga ol' girl. _

***

Arnold was lazily sitting in the café, drinking a coke. His arm was flopped over the back of the chair and his legs were spread out. All he could think of was how he screwed up. 

That was it. It was just so clear to him…all his life he'd live in misery. And that was that. 

He shook his head and sighed. He remembered last night. If only he could transport it to Helga's mind. 

If only he could see Helga right now. 

If only he took Helga back to the hotel instead of François. 

…If only…

Just then he saw a familiar figure walking across the Paris street carrying a bag and a book in her hand. Those unmistakable clothes, that golden hair. He knew that it was Helga. But he couldn't just let her see him like this. Quickly he grabbed the menu and covered his face. It didn't stop him from peeking from the top, though. 

He watched as she walked by, and watched as she sat down on a bench and opened her book. 

***

Helga crossed her legs and opened her book. She was lucky that there was a bench there. It was probably because it was so close to the park. Or maybe because it was because so many people were walking around, and they needed a place to rest.

Well, whatever the reason was, she sure was glad to have the bench there. 

She opened her book and began to read. 

_It has been days since Bridgette has seen Yves. How she yearned to see his smile, she wanted him to touch her hand with his like he did before. She longed to stay in his arms. But she is now stuck with Jean-Claude. Silly how she thought he was the one for her…   
The point is she was  confused, so utterly confused.   
Then a familiar knock on the door. Three shorts knocks. Could it be? Yes, it was Yves…he had come for her after the long time. _

_Eagerly she opened the front door and smiled to see that it really was him.   
'Yves!' she exclaimed. 'You're here! I can't believe you're here…' she opened her arms, ready to hug him, but then he backed up before she could.   
'Look, Bridgette…we cannot do this. I mean, you have a better life for you. Jean-Claude is richer, and more powerful than I am. You will be better off with him…'   
Bridgette shook her head in despair. 'No, Yves…you can't possibly mean that…I-I _love_ you…'   
'Oui…je t'aime aussi…but…ach,' he turned his head and sighed. 'I cannot offer you much. I want you to be happy. Stay with Jean-Claude. Just forget about me.' He began to walk away.   
Bridgette followed him, wailing, 'No Yves! I can't forget about you…' He looked at her with weary eyes and kissed her.   
'You must, ma cherie. Please. Please? Do it for me. D'accord? Just _try_ to be happy…' He smiled for her.   
'I will not be happy unless I'm with you!' she pleaded.   
Yves got on his horse, and held her hand. He kissed it. 'I will miss you.' He let go of her hand and rode off without looking back.   
Bridgette sniffed as tears cascaded down her face. This can't be…this isn't love…_

Helga sighed and shivered. It began to slightly drizzle. She pulled her jacket a little closer to her body. 

***

Arnold watched Helga as she read her book. She was such a doll. If only she could understand. He took one last gulp of his coke and put some euros on the table. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked out of the café. He did not know where he would be going now. Maybe he'd go watch a movie or something. Or take a walk in the park. Or, you know, sit in the bookstore and pretend he was a poet or something. 

***

The wind blew a little harder, and Helga was getting cold. She put her book back in her bag and began to walk back to François's apartment. Things will get better. He probably was already back from his family business. Right? If not, she'll just sit outside and wait for him. Yeah…like a dog.

**A/N2:** Keep those reviews comin'! 

             I can confidently say there's ONE more chapter coming up. 

                                Happy Days!! Ü


	8. Avec Moi

A/N: Here's the LAST CHAPTER…perhaps it's a bit lengthy. But oh well! I hope you like it. Please excuse my mistakes in spelling and what-nots…it's late at night and I just got back from Mexico!! Whoo! PLEASE R/R! 

**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Hey Arnold! Or any of the fancy quotes I used…or any part of the french song "Les Feuilles Mortes". 

Chapter Eight: Avec Moi  

Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love. –Charlie Brown.

_The course of love never did run smooth – William Shakespeare. _

_Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you.', Mature love says: 'I need you because I love you.' – Eric Fromm. _

"I think Helga's sleeping," Arnold whispered, "we'll have to try to be quiet." 

He closed the door behind him and led her to the small kitchen in the dark room. He opened the mini ice box and took out a bottle of gingerale and opened it. Some accidentally spilled on Cecile and he clumsily took a napkin and started to dab her dress. 

"Oh Arnold," she giggled. She was getting the wrong idea. 

"What?" he mumbled softly. 

She unzipped his pants and kissed his lips and giggled. 

"Wait, _whoaa_ there," he snapped in a harsh whisper. He jumped back. "What are you trying to do?" 

"I thought…" 

"You thought wrong! Aachh," he pulled his fly back up. "Can't you _please_ be quiet?" 

"Why? Isn't this why you brought me in? To make _love_?" She kissed him. 

"No! You said you were thirsty, so I decided to bring you in for a drink! We're both pretty drunk as it is…"

"But…" she put her hand on his chest. "Je t'aime." 

"Nah uh…" he was still whispering. He took her hand off his shirt and led her out the door. "Look, Cecile, you're great and all, but I really can't do this to Helga. I don't care how much you like me…but it's over. You're just going to have to go home," he said in a harsh whisper and closed the door. 

He looked over at Helga sleeping across the room and sighed.  

***

Helga tried to open the door to François's apartment, but it was locked. She sighed and crossed her arms. Now what? 

Then a man with lots of keys tied to his belt came walking along. 

"Oh, Monsieur…" Helga said politely. "Avez-vous une clef à cette pièce?" [do you have a key to this room?]

"Pourquoi?" he asked suspiciously. 

"Parce-que c'est la pièce de mon fiance, et moi semblent avoir perdu ma copie de la clef." She showed him her engagement ring. [Because this is my fiance's room, and I seem to have lost my copy of the key.] 

"D'accord." He smiled gratefully and took out the key for the apartment and gave it to her. 

"Merci." 

Helga put the brass key into the doorknob and turned. She opened the door and walked in with her bag still in her hand. "François?" she wondered aloud. He probably wasn't even home. 

She smelled smoke coming from his bedroom. Curiously, she walked in and pushed the door open to see François half naked lying in his bed smoking a cigarette with some french prostitute lying next to him. 

Helga gasped. 

François's eyes widened and sat up in bed. "Helga! Oh, um, I can explain…this, this is not what it seems…" he pleaded. 

Helga's mouth was still hanging open and she shook her head. "No…I don't believe you!" 

"Please, Helga! Don't go!" he called as she ran out of the room and out of the door. "BE SENSIBLE!" he roared. 

She had already left. 

"Ah, stupid bitch…I guess we can kiss our citizenship good-bye, cherie…" he groaned and fell back into bed. 

Tears streamed down Helga's cheeks again. "Damnit," she sniffed, "how could you be so stupid Helga?" She wiped her tear with her index finger. "Oh well," she sighed, "it would've ended anyway…"

Now where was she going to stay? It's not like she could go up to Arnold. It'll be a cold day in hell when she apologizes to him after what he did to her. Well, maybe she could go back to the hotel room and take some extra money or something and she'd go stay somewhere else. Yeah. That's what she'll do. She figured she would just go into the hotel room and take her plane ticket and leave. 

That was simple enough. 

***

Arnold listened to the slow french songs playing in the bookstore. He knew them well. Songs of love, and despair. 

C'est une chanson qui nous ressemble  
Toi, tu m'aimais et je t'aimais  
Et nous vivions tous deux ensemble  
Toi qui m'aimais, moi qui t'aimais  
Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s'aiment  
Tout doucement, sans faire de bruit  
Et la mer efface sur le sable  
Les pas des amants désunis.

He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. 

Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle,  
Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi  
Mais mon amour silencieux et fidèle  
Sourit toujours et remercie la vie  
Je t'aimais tant, tu étais si jolie,  
Comment veux-tu que je t'oublie?

***

Luckily, Helga still had the key to the room in her bag. She opened the door and cautiously walked in. _I hope Arnold's not in here…_ that would not be good. When she was ten steps inside the hotel room, she saw no sign of Arnold. _Whew_. 

She walked around and pondered about where the plane tickets could be. Then she noticed the bouquet of flowers all crushed on the floor and the petals scattered on the floor. Her hand pressed on her chest as her lips pouted. Those were probably for her. She could guess because of the arrangement of roses and daisies. He knew that she liked those flowers. 

She bent over and smelled the fresh scent and sighed. Her eyes wandered around the room some more and saw her letter crumbled up next to the trash can. _It's nothing_, she thought to herself. _Don't get hysterical, Helga…maybe those flowers weren't for you. Maybe they were for Lila…_

But then again, who ever said Lila liked the same exact flowers Helga did? She couldn't stand being in the room any longer. So she rushed out the door without even getting the plane ticket or any extra money. 

When she got out of the door, she realized that she left the key inside. "Aw crap," she muttered and sighed. 

***

Arnold hated the fact that he was lonely and alone in Paris. Who is alone in Paris? No one. Only stupid people like him. It seemed that everyone who walked by him was with a family, or with their girlfriend holding hands…

AaRgghh! 

He walked out of the bookstore with his hands in his pockets. 

"This is crap…" he muttered. "Paris is crap." 

He walked down the gloomy streets and help his jacket closer to his body. The day was turning into night, and he was freezing. Even though he was cold and frustrated, he couldn't help thinking about Helga. Where on earth could she be? 

Well, in Paris, obviously…

But, well, what ever happened to her and Francois? Not that he cared or anything…but…he just couldn't help wondering. 

Then it began to rain. He pulled his jacket over his head and began to quickly run to the hotel. 

***

"Oh no…" Helga wailed. She was not prepared for rain. She looked through her bag for her book. Maybe she could use it as some shelter or whatever. "No, Noo.." she mumered. 

She lost her book. 

"Agh, well, I could've guessed the ending anyway…" she sighed. "Now where am I going to go?" 

Suddenly she remembered that Cecile lived in Paris. Maybe she could bunk in with her. Right? Even though bunking with Cecile would be a last resort. But then again, maybe Cecile could give her a number of a friend she could bunk with. Right? She looked around for a phone booth somewhere. Phone Booths always had big books of numbers. 

She walked around aimlessly and then caught eye of a phone booth. Eureka! Quickly she raced inside the phone booth. She flipped through the pages and found a Montad (let's pretend that's her last name) residence in Paris. She found some loose change in her pockets and stuck them in the phone's slot and frantically dialed the number. 

"Bonjour?" asked a calm voice.  

"Cecile?" 

"Helga?" she asked in amazement. 

"Look, Cecile, you're the last person I would ever call for help. But, um, do you know some place I could stay?" her voice cracked as she held back her tears. 

***

Arnold knew something was different once he walked into the hotel room. Just the way it felt when he walked inside. It was strange. Had Helga been in here? No, it couldn't be. Why would she want to come in the hotel room after claiming she'd leave him forever? She had no business being in the hotel room. Right? She's out being happy with what's-his-name. 

Suddenly Arnold fell on the carpeted floor. He tripped over something on the floor. After rubbing his elbow that he had fallen on top of, he looked back at what he had tripped over and found Helga's book. 

He sat up and knew that Helga had been inside afterall and carelessly dropped the book in the room. Or had it been intentional? _No,_ he thought. _Helga isn't like that. She can't admit things very well. Too stubborn. Well, if it wasn't intentional…maybe it's a sign._

He opened the book and began to read it. He found himself reading it for the rest of the day. 

_To think that she actually risked her life just to save Jean-Claude's. She should have let him die in the jail cells. How stupid she was. She's not in love with him. He betrayed her an nth amount of times. It was all so sad._ _Now she was living a rut. Who knew where Yves was now. _

_Oh, those good times they had…_

***

"Thanks," Helga murmered, rubbing her arm. 

"C'est no problem," said Cecile happily. "After all, Paris is not the place to be alone." She smiled. 

_I can't believe I'm here,_ Helga thought. _This is so stupid. Why'd I even call her? She's with Arnold…wouldn't this get weird? I mean, what if she asks me about his favorite food or something? _ 

Cecile got the bed in the guest room all situated properly. It had a nice blue bed line and large blue blanket to go with it. The room was pretty empty, except for a closet, a shelf, a window, and a picture of the Notre Dame in a frame. It was also in a nice shade of pastel purple. Very, very nice. 

Helga sat on the bed, sitting on her hands. 

Cecile crossed her arms and stared at Helga and opened her mouth. "Helga…can I ask you something?" 

Helga nodded, staring at the purple wall blankly. 

"What happened to you and Arnold?" 

Helga shrugged. _You should know._ By the way Helga was just like that, Cecile knew. She sighed and sat down on the other side of the bed. "I hope it's not because of me." She looked down. "Because you know it isn't true." 

Cecile sighed. "That is ze promblem with you American girls. Always worrying…never noticing the obvious. Never taking life as it is. Always making things more complicated." She pulled her hand through her hair. 

"Helga," said Cecile. "Don't think you know everything when you don't." 

"What are you talking about?" Helga snapped. 

"I just don't see any reason why you are not staying with Arnold. I know how much you adore him." 

"I do not." 

"Oh, there you go again, Helga, always twisting your mind." Cecile sighed again. "I knew that you and Arnold would be a perfect couple. After all, he could only think of you. I was just an infatuation." 

"What do you know?" Helga said softly. 

"You know, when I was in your hotel room with Arnold, I was getting a bit, how you say, carried away. So, Arnold urged me out. After that, we just never spoke again. Even though it is only a day. He said to me 'Cecile, I'm sorry, but we have to stop with this. I can't do this to Helga.'" 

_Don't believe her,_ Helga thought. 

"But even before…all he could talk about was you. Trust me, Helga." Cecile looked down at her feet. "Ever since I saw him look at you the first time we met in the café. I knew that it was you he loves. I was just a temporary infatuation. Don't question how I know. I'm French and I live in Paris. And, after all, Paris is the city of love and French people are _very_ romantic if you did not know before.

"So, I'll just leave you here. A bientot." Cecile got up and walked out the door, closing it behind her. 

Helga groaned and fell back on the bed. What a rut she was in. 

***

Finally, it was a new day. It seemed like an eternity to Helga and Arnold. 

Well, at least it seemed that way to Arnold. He finished her book. Now he understood more about what Helga wanted…her little girlish fantasies. _Girls are so complicated_, he thought to himself. _That's why you can never please them._

He was so alone. And in Paris, of all places. Is it even legal to be alone and lonely in Paris? Probably not. That's probably also the reason why he's so miserable. He just discovered the secret of Paris. You're either miserable, or you're happy. Isn't that why they wrote that book "Les Miserables"? That's right. 

Okay, so Arnold was getting a bit too bored and began to think about the meaning of life. Was it to be miserable his whole life? And just when he thought he was in love, he really wasn't? 

If only he could see her again. 

But, you know, it's funny…at first Arnold thought that Helga was the one for him and then he thought that Cecile was for him. Especially after the first time he laid eyes on her in 4th grade. Now he wasn't quite sure who was the one for him. _Wait,_ he thought again, _I remember…that wasn't Cecile._ He tried to gather that picture of her in his mind. 

It hit him…those unmistakable eyes, those pouty lips…that hair. He remembers that hair…it was Helga. It was _Helga_. Oh, why hadn't he seen it before? He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. So there was a new twist. He thought that Helga was the one for him, then thought that Helga was the one for him and he still does think that Helga is the one for him. 

How could he have been so stupid? So oblivious? Ugh, such a _guy_. [a/n: I'm not being sexist] 

He groaned and shook his head in disbelief. _If we were so meant for each other, why am I here, and she's not?_ _She's probably eloped with Francois…and they're living unhappily ever after._

It almost seemed as if the last time he talked to her was five milleniums ago. 

He couldn't go on living without her. Just not talking to her by itself was pain and agony. He had to go look for her. He had to take it as if it were a life/death situation. With that, he took his coat and walked out the hotel. 

***

Helga thought long and hard about what Cecile said. She hated to admit that Cecile could be right. But Arnold broke the rules. She couldn't just let him get off easily. She had to make him squirm, make him want her more…make him _really_ sorry. But then again, Helga might end up feeling the same way. She'd be _really_ sorry. 

Okay, so she knows that she is not with Francois. But she's still skeptical on whether Cecile is with Arnold or not. 

Ah, well, she could ponder about that later. Now she was really hungry. She took her pink jacket and walked out of her cozy guest room. Maybe she'd go out to eat something and take her mind off Arnold. That's what she needed…she needed to take her mind off Arnold and get on with her life. 

She'd spent too much of her life thinking about him. Perhaps it was time to change. Right?! 

But once she thought about him, she just couldn't picture herself forgeting about him. 

There was a very strong aroma downstairs that drew Helga down. Smelled like, mm, honey and, mmm, fresh bread, and mmm, fresh coffee. 

Helga walked down to the kitchen and sat on the chair, admiring the food in front of her. (Keep in mind that in France, they don't have big breakfasts like what we americans would have. But it didn't matter to Helga, she was too hungry to even care.) Cecile put a slice of bread on Helga's plate and poured her a cup of hot chocolate. 

Helga put honey on her bread and gobbled it down. 

"Have you been thinking about what I said, Helga?" Cecile asked quietly, watching her eat another piece of bread. 

Helga didn't bother to answer her. "Look," she said plainly. "What happens between me and Arnold is nothing that should concern you." 

Cecile sighed, "you still are very narrow-minded, Helga. No romance in you what-so-ever." 

"No," corrected Helga, "I _am_ a romantic person. I just…I just don't like people butting into my personal life." 

"Why are you so stubborn, Helga? I have never met anyone as _difficile_ as you!" 

"Je ne suis pas difficile!" Helga snapped back. 

Cecile scoffed. "Really! Just tell me! Why do you hate me so much?" 

"I don't hate you," Helga replied coldly with a sarcastic tone. 

"Yes you do. Just tell me _why_." 

"Or else what? Huh? Why do I have to tell you?" 

"_Tell me_ or else I can kick you out of my house!" Cecile shouted. "AND DON'T THINK I WON'T!" 

"FINE!" Helga shouted back. "I HATE YOU BECAUSE YOU SLEPT WITH ARNOLD. BECAUSE YOU BROKE US APART BEFORE WE EVEN HAD A RELATIONSHIP. YOU MADE IT SO THAT WE COULD NEVER BE TOGETHER!" Helga realized she was standing up and her hands were pounding on the wooden table. 

Cecile, who was originally standing, fell backwards into a chair. Her hand over her chest. "You think _I_ slept with Arnold?" 

"I know so." 

"This is astonishing because I have _not_ slept with Arnold." Cecile said softly, "as fake as it may seem to you Helga, I did not." 

Helga looked at Cecile. "You…didn't?" Cecile shook her head. "But, I heard…" 

Again, she shook her head. "Then you heard wrong. Sure, I _wanted_ to. But Arnold pushed me out before anything could happen. Like I said, he said to me, 'I really can't do this to Helga' and pushed me out. I told you yesterday this same thing. But only now you can absorb it." 

Helga groaned. "What do I do now? He must think I'm awful." 

"I say you go find him, Helga."

***

Helga arrived at the hotel room and knocked on the door. "Arnold?" she mumbled. "Arnold?" she said louder, pounding on the door. "Please, Arnold, let me in! Please?" she felt a tear trickle down her cheek. 

She knew that it was hopeless. He wouldn't open the door for her. She bit her lip and walked away. 

***

Arnold was still walking around outside in the afternoon. It was still a gloomy day. All dark with a 50% chance of rain. He wasn't very happy. His goal in Paris was to find Helga. Yes, he had to find Helga. Well, wasn't that his goal in the morning when he came out here? 

He knew that to get to Helga, he had to think like her. It's just that she was such a complicated person (as are all females). It would take a miracle for him to find her. All he wanted to do was just make peace with her. After all, she is his best friend. I mean, if she wanted to stay with Francois, then fine. It was no snot up his nose. If she wanted to be miserable, fine. 

But the problem is that when Helga was miserable, he felt 10x worse than she did. 

Then he saw a familiar guy walking with a girl around 10 feet away from him. Without any hesitation, he ran up to him and grabbed hold of him and saw that it wasn't Helga that was next to him. But that girl he caught him with in the restaurant. 

Arnold glanced at her and then at Francois. "What are you doing with that girl?" he asked coldly. 

"Well, she iz ma girlfriend," said Francois. 

"What about Helga?" Arnold growled. 

"Who?" he chuckled. 

With that, Arnold drew back his fist and punched Francois square in the jaw. Francois stared at him in disbelief. He touched the inside of his mouth and felt blood and punched Arnold in the eye. "Damn you!" he cursed. 

"What are you still doing with this _thing_ when you have Helga? Huh? You should treat her with more respect!" snapped Arnold. "And not two-time her! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?! I MEAN, JUST USING HELGA LIKE THAT! YOU KNOW WHAT I HAVE DONE TO GET HER BACK FROM YOU? YOU NEVER DESERVED HER, AND YOU'RE STILL GOING OUT WITH THIS SKANK BEHIND HER BACK! NOW TELL ME WHERE SHE IS BEFORE I PUNCH YOU AGAIN!" Arnold shouted. 

"Calm down you idiotic American," retorted Francois. "For your in-for-ma-shion she left me two days ago. So go harass another man…" He walked away with his girlfriend. 

Arnold touched his throbbing left eye with his hand. The fact that he was punched in the eye just absorbed into his brain. So, Helga left him. She had more guts than he expected. He left to go look for her. 

Arnold and Helga spent the rest of the day looking for each other. But they could not even get close. They weren't willing to give up hope though. No, not them. It was just so painful for them to know that the other was out there…in Paris, somewhere. The sensation they felt when they thought about each other was unbearable. 

Helga went back to Cecile's house crying. She fell asleep crying as well. "It's hopeless," she cried. "_Hopeless_." 

Arnold went back to the hotel room and stayed in bed with a pillow over his face. 

It's been that way for two more days. One of those days, Helga stayed home moping around, and Arnold went outside to look. The other one, Helga went out and Arnold stayed in. 

Oh, what they would do to see each other again. Have you ever felt like someone was _the one_? If you do, don't you know that feeling? The feeling like they're just perfect…like every day without them drags on forever. Every day you don't talk to them or see them you feel miserable, and you can't help but dream about them? You give them everything you can give…and your love just grows stronger. 

Believe me: living without your true love is painful. Worse than having your chest torn apart with a swiss army knife. After time, the pain eases though it never disappears. This is the scenario for Arnold and Helga. 

That night of the 5th day without each other, Helga decided to take a break from crying and walked outside in the darkness with the street lights leading her way. 

She found herself in front of the Eiffel Tower. There were still some people walking around. And an old lady who was selling flowers. 

She tried selling a rose to Helga. "C'est seulement cinq euros," she muttered. [it's only 5 euros]

"Non, c'est d'accord," Helga smiled, her voice shaking slightly. [No, it's okay]

The old lady saw the water in her eyes and smiled warmly and said in a mother-like tone, "Ici, ayez un pour libre." [Here, have one for free.] she gave her a crimson rose. 

"Merci," said Helga. The lady walked away. 

Helga looked up fondly at the Eiffel Tower, glowing brightly…glittering every 5 minutes. She let out a deep breath and walked towards it, heading to the top. It began to drizzle. She wasn't wearing much. Just jeans, a tee-shirt and a scarf around her neck. I don't know, it just seemed like it wouldn't rain. 

Arnold had a strange urge to go to the Eiffel Tower. It was where Francois had shown up and it was the turning point of Helga and Arnold's friendship. That was when it all started to go downhill. So why not go check it out one last time and curse it?, he thought. 

He wore a dress shirt, jeans, and a jacket and was off to the Eiffel Tower. When he was in front of it, he bought a rose from an old lady. 

It began to rain harder. 

Helga was wet and cold. That was how she felt. The people began to disappear and she still was at the top, staring out at the city lights. She leaned forward against the railing. The only thing holding her back from falling down. 

She sighed, and twirled the rose around. "What have I gotten myself into?" she said softly, leaning her cheek on her hand. "I'm so stupid…why didn't I just admit it? Why did I have to make such stupid decisions. Why? Why? Why?" The rain drops pitter-pattered on the floor, and was the only thing she could hear. 

"I'll tell you why," interjected Arnold from behind. 

Helga turned around and saw Arnold and frowned slightly. She put her right hand on the railing, and her left hand, holding the rose, on her chest. "Arnold?" she muttered softly. 

"It's because you're crazy about me. You just were feeling this wild, crazy emotion and you weren't sure what it was leading to…" 

"You don't know what you're talking about," Helga stated plainly. She looked away from his pleading eyes. 

"Helga, I know you," he said, approaching her carefully. "Why else would I be here at night when it's raining when no one else is here but you? It's fate, Helga. I know that you've been through a lot so far in this summer. And I have too. Think about it…when we make up, we can do what we've wanted to all along. Go to London…Italy…" 

"How are you so sure we're going to make up?" 

"Because it's this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide. I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do…" he was close enough to her that he could put a strand of her hair behind her ear. She looked at him earnestly. 

"Oh my, Arnold," she mumbled, gently touching his black left eye. "What happened?" 

"Um, Francois punched me in the eye after I kinda got mad with him about you…" 

"This is all my fault," she sniffed. Suddenly she broke down and sobbed, "I'm sorry Arnold. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you said you didn't sleep with Cecile. I'm sorry for going with Francois…I'm sorry for not believing you when you said he was cheating on me…oh God, Arnold, I'm sorry! If I wouldn't have been so stubborn I – we – could have been happier far earlier…" 

Arnold held her closely. Two wet people getting even more wet with each other. "It's okay, Helga. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is that we're here with each other. What matters it that I'm with you right now…and you're _with me_." 

Helga looked up at him with her eyes all watery and gave him a weak smile. Arnold looked at her and saw she had a rose in her hand. 

"I would give you this rose I have, but I see you already have one. I guess that kind of ruins the whole romantic feeling of this scenario." 

Helga chuckled. 

He drew in a deep breath and let it out quickly. "You're shivering…" he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was quite large for her. Even though it didn't really make her warmer, it felt nice. 

"Thanks…" she grinned. 

"Helga, I need you. I can't go on another day without you…I need you because I love you." His eyes sparkled. 

Tears spurted from Helga's eyes. "You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that. I l-love y-you t-t-too," she could barely keep herself from crying even more. Arnold took her in his arms again and kissed her forehead. 

"You know Helga…I don't know much, but I know I love you, and that may be all I need to know." Her eyes began to tear again. 

This time Arnold lifted her chin up and they indulged in one sweet kiss which they have waited for forever. They could feel sparks, their emotions just floating out of their lips onto each other's. It was a moment which stood still in time, and lasted for an eternity. 

_The End_

**A/N:** **Harry Potter rocks**.(Well, of course Hey Arnold! rocks harder) **Please r/r** since you've gotten this far. It would mean a LOT to me. =) really. "…Get it Harry? We saw Uranus! – ha ha ha." 

Okay, if you want the translated version of the song…just go to alta vista. I'm too lazy to do it. :-D 

Um, WATCH PIRATES OF THE CARRIBEAN COMING OUT JULY 9!!!! Okay?

I don't know what else I should write about. 

So this may be my last story. Who knows? 


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